The Essence Of My Light
by missmusicteach
Summary: Ana hands in her two-week notice, only to be given an assignment too hard to refuse. If she succeeds it will be a light shining moment of her life. CHRISTMAS STORY. OOC, AU, HEA.
1. Chapter 1

**THE ESSENCE OF MY LIGHT**

* * *

 _Ana hands in her two-week notice, only to be given an assignment too hard to refuse. If she succeeds it will be a light shining moment of her life. CHRISTMAS STORY. OOC, AU, HEA._

 _Based on:_

 _Fifty Shades Trilogy written by EL James._

 _Starry Night written by Debbie Macomber, and_

 _Paperback Hero (1999 Australian Film)._

* * *

 **Disclaimer and Notes:**

 **THE ESSENCE OF MY LIGHT** uses characters and some plot from the FSOG series written by EL James. It was highly influenced by the Christmas Story - "Starry Night" written by Debbie Macomber at times some dialogue/plot and maybe recycled [I recommend all the read this novel, it's a beautiful sweet Christmas Story]. Also the 1999 Australian Romance film "Paperback Hero" helped me finalize this story.

This short story is OOC and AU. Underage abuse/BDSM is mentioned, but not discussed in detail. This story is a true romance, maybe a tad bit of Insta-love and can't forget the fluffiness. It's not solely focused on a white Christmas, I felt it was time to write something a little different for the holiday subject, especially for all us living in the South Hemisphere this time of year.

 **UPDATES** will be regular and completed by the 26th December.

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Thanks,

 **missmusicteach**

 **…..**

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 **I DIDN'T ASK** for this whirlwind trip across the globe.

If I only reined in my shoe addiction, the photographs would have been redundant. Being nineteen everything seems flawless. Prime example, a nude photo-shoot involving leather, chains, at one point a ball and gag. My past life choices were never well received in the present, only one has remained. Shoes. Louboutin, in the shade of red. My passion and never-ending love.

Twisting my ankles I was trying to see a hint of the leather heel and a slight hint of red in the confined space. An elderly woman on my left and a large man barely able to loosen his seat-belt. I didn't have a chance. Only a few more minutes and I'll have freedom, my personal space returned.

A raspy voice filled the cabin, _"_ _Tray tables up, and seats in the upright positions. We are approximately twelve minutes away from Darwin International Airport._ _"_ A loud ding ended the announcement of the American Airlines flight 2207 from Los Angeles.

Raising my neck, I caught a glimpse above the seat. Not a single passenger acknowledged the cabin announcement. Each and everyone continued with their menial tasks, talking with loved ones, reading the inflight magazine or catching a few z's.

I was bursting at the seams, itchy to get out of my prison. After twenty-four hours on planes, and some kind of cab or uber this girl needed her feet on solid ground. Trying my best ease my nerves peaking outside the small porthole, the blue waters of northern Australia lapped at its golden shores.

It's surreal seeing so much sun, Seattle is bleak during the course of the holiday season. I skipped my travel to Montesano, for the meal of the century. I avoided my parents where I should have been for Thanksgiving. Work got in the way, and now I'm kicking myself with my ridiculous choices. Choices I couldn't refuse. So I'm making my way to a foreign country with their season flipped for Christmas. All this to get a golden ticket. My dream job. You know, a piece of cake. The momentous task is to find one recluse author, in an unidentified location.

Not once have I left my home of North America. I hadn't even heard of Darwin until yesterday and I'm not speaking of the theorist about biological evolution but rather a town surrounding the sea, with endless plains of desert land.

All I wanted is to simplify my life, now I was willing it to flat line.

 **…..**

 **TO SAY I WAS TRAPPED** is utter nonsense, I put it upon myself being locked in ridiculous assignments at _Seattle Daily_. You may think, this is a paper, so stop whining like a spoilt child. It's the lack of reputable status which hits me hard. Well, for one it wasn't my dream position at _The Times_ , that's for sure. When you believe hard work at an Ivy League School, graduating with honors and the perfect 4.0 GPA, would all equate to a perfect receipt for success. Wrong! With a capital N.O. They research. Every-thing! Especially raunchy highly inappropriate photographs of suspected future employees.

So, for now, I'm locked in the bullshit of the society page. Don't get me wrong, I see some amazing shoes and get to wear a fair few but it doesn't fulfill my passion for reporting. My Editor, Elena Lincoln informed me when I was first hired, eventually, I would be able to write compelling factual pieces. Ones I craved. The big interviews of human-interest stories, possibly politics, or even something drastic in the business world of Washington or the nation. Six years later I'm still running up and down red carpets of the Pacific North-West, waiting.

I was trapped, frustrated and under-appreciated. My years of education were dwindling away as my vocabulary stagnates. I can't remember the last time I needed to use the words, bipartisan, transcendence, or vicissitudes. To be undervalued and wasting my reporting skills is killing my ability to continue.

How could society bullshit ranging from parties, auctions, award ceremonies, contribute to the greater good of the world's use of words on paper? In the process I sacrificed many things including love. José, my college sweetheart. In the end, of course, he married six months later to my college roommate and best friend. Well yeah, that didn't take the asshole long, and it made me realize how oblivious I was to the world around me. Too focused on my dream goal. Instead my boyfriend of three whole years was fucking my best friend in her bed. The worst part is, for the last few years I've been too busy reporting on this menial bullshit to have time for my own social life. This includes my very inactive sex life.

I was done. Not with life. Just my fucked up job. I knew it was time, so the best option was to hand in my two-week notice, end my lease, and take a chance. Anywhere. I refused to deteriorate any further. My close friend Luke, now don't get any ideas we're co-workers. He refused to believe I wanted to quit, but then again what did he have to worry about. He the success before him, a wonderful woman, a baby in tow and he reported sport for God's sake. At least there was science to it and scandals. Real scandal, not celebrities sleeping with one another, or adopting a Chihuahua puppy from a shelter. It was real.

"This isn't some kind of holiday prank thingy?" He stared at the envelope labeled Ms Elena Lincoln, "Oh shit. Fuck me you're serious," Luke Sawyer finally realized there was no humor involved in this.

"Quiet! I don't want the whole office to know," I hushed him as I lounged into my swivel chair, beginning my daily setup of my desk.

"Don't fucking do it, Ana," he whispered, rolling his chair closer to my desk, "Don't hand in your notice. You're needed here." I scoffed at his weak retort as Luke branched out his arms, trying to convince the already converted. I needed out.

"Well, not as a reporter," I assured him, rolling my thick coat off my shoulders, dumping it on the back of my chair. "I'm sorry Luke, it's final. The decision was made after a full bottle of Pinot Grigio. This mind is made," I tapped my forehead, "you and I both know Lincoln will never give me a decent assignment period. I've wasted six years of my life on the yo-yo society shit. It's time. Out and forward."

"Pinot Grigio, fancy. Do you realize you are your own worst enemy?" he rolled closer, turning my chair around so we were eye-to-eye.

"How's that?"

"Well for one, you're the perfect fit for the society page. You're gorgeous, and beauty sells in this industry," he said as his hands cupped a heart over his chest, "Give Lincoln credit, she knows what's she doing."

"Ha, if only I was vain."

"Wait," he began tapping a finger on his chin deep in thought, "There's more," Luke said, "You're great with people. All you need to do is bat those baby blues and strangers open up to you and tell you the future. It's a gift, a real gift. And damn woman, have I mentioned those eyes sparkle like the night sky."

" _Luke_ ," I chastised his ridiculous compliments, "Okay I get it I'm friendly, but this isn't going to get me a column about mergers and acquisitions. My heart is set on being a reporter, a real reporter. Writing the real news and about compelling people."

"So Kylie Jenner isn't compelling?" he scoffed, waving me off.

 **…..**

 **I STARED AT MY COMPUTER.** Holidays are the worst while being late November, the frenzy has already started. The list of parties Lincoln assigned me was already kaleidoscoping out of control. Halloween decorations were still arranged around my desk, and already there was a Christmas tree in the display window of the store across the street.

Before regretting my decision, I fixed my blouse and ran my hands down my pencil skirt heading towards Lincoln's office. She was a veteran news reporter in her own right. Elena glanced up from the screen, as the light whitewashed her face. Her pupils shrunk to pinpricks as those dark eyes pierced any glimmer of hope. All I see two bottles of Pinot Grigio consumed in quick succession later this evening.

Lincoln gave her regular weary sight, "What now Ana?" her words growled.

"Here," I stated, carefully placed the sealed envelope on her desk, "my two-week notice."

And I waited for the wrath of Elena Lincoln. Never experiencing it first hand, the expectation was unknown but set high. Like flames or lasers. But the only reaction I received was a few blinks and a steady glare at my face.

"Any particular reason?"

"I want to prove my true skills, but opportunities are a challenge when all you're writing is society gossip. When you hired me, you made it clear you'd give me a chance. I've been waiting Lincoln… six long years."

She removed her glasses to pinch her brow, "Ana, to be clear there is nothing wrong with your writing. It's exceptional."

"I don't want to write this garbage anymore." I huffed as I stomped my foot.

"Ana, Ana, Ana," my name whined and I was waiting for the proverbial but, "In time you'll get your break. I'm waiting for the right moment."

I straightened my shoulders, "I know I'm fortunate to work here, after my exuberant past, but this isn't the career I dreamed of, or even wanted. I have no choice Lincoln. I'm done." And I pushed my envelope closer towards my editor.

She arched her brow, "Oh, you're serious."

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" I pursed my lips, pushing up my chin.

"Fine."

Elena reached across her desk and picked up a hardcover book Throwing it towards me. It took my breath away landing straight on my stomach.

"Find Grey. Get an interview and I'll print your story." She pointed with force.

I pulled the book away, not recognizing the author's name. "And if I do this?"

"Well there's a slim chance you'll locate the author. Every reporter on the planet is dying for an interview. I don't think those fluttery eyes of yours will win any luck especially to get them to talk. But I'll keep my word. If you succeed I'll print the piece, and Anastasia Steele will no longer write society babble for Seattle Daily. The choice is in your hands."

I pondered as it resembled the red pill or blue pill scenario.

 _Fuck it!_

It was a chance, and an adequate one I'm willing to gamble on. I needed to prove myself to my family, my Editor and above all else, myself.

"Oh please Lincoln," I purred, " sounds like child's play. I'm in." And like that, a huge ass grin from cheek to cheek sealed my fate.

My confidence wasn't unnoticed as she sobered a replied, " _Sure_ … if I print the story, the world is your oyster. You can have _any_ assignment as you please."

I pointed to her face, "I'm holding you to your word Lincoln."

She didn't say anything further, rather sitting back in her chair, placing her glasses on her face continuing to read. Not even flinching at my threat.

 **…..**

 **BACK AT MY DESK** , I examined the book to see if there is an authors photo and biography. Nothing. Not even on the inside cover. Shit.

I paused at Luke's corner, "You ever heard of a, _C GREY_?"

Luke's eyes lifted as he spat his coffee all over his computer screen, "and you haven't?"

"No?" I questioned myself.

 _Should I?_

Studying the title, _Beaten With Love,_ maybe it's a domestic abuse story, possible retelling. The cover was dark, glossy black with a large leather whip, a few faint trees with white dots in the distant, perhaps representing a night landscape with infinity of stars.

"So what do you actually do outside of _Seattle Daily?_ Like live under a rock Ana!" Luke exclaimed while cleaning his spilled coffee.

"I do… lots of things," Biting the inside of my cheek. _Does drinking overpriced and online shoe shopping count_? "But who is _Grey_?"

"Man, woman no-one knows for sure." He paused, letting out a heavy breath, "Ana this is huge. The romance this person writes is _amazeballs_."

"So, amazeballs is a new term these days Luke?" I said while crossing my arms, "And also how do you know about…" I tapped the cover of _Beaten with Love_.

" _Well_ _…_ " he winked, "it's kinky and heartfelt."

" _Oh_."

The one thing I know nothing about, lovey-dovey stuff.

"This story has been a best seller mostly at the number-one position for the best part of six months." I was impressed both by the author and Luke's knowledge of romance charts. "This author is all about hooking your own heart, crushing it and then building it back together again. They make you harp for the hero and heroine all the way." He pumped his chest.

" _Oh_ ," I repeated myself again. "Lincoln said they don't give interviews."

"Not only doesn't, they are invisible, a complete ghost. No one has ever met or spoken to them."

"Surely the publisher or editor—"

' _Nooo_ ,' Luke mouthed wide, like a carnival clown, "Amazing technology we have these days, everything by computer, on the internet highway." He cringed as he turned to his computer with coffee still dripping down the screen. " _Shit,_ " he mumbled under his breath.

"Well… they must have signed contracts or at least a meeting for the startup."

He shrugged, "There are blogs relating to conspiracy theories."

"Well, are you going to elaborate?"

"Theorist believe they are American but living abroad."

" _Oh fuck!_ " I hit my head on my desk, while Luke counter tapped with the hardback of _Beaten with Love_. I've been beaten by my own game before I've even started. "I don't have a hope in hell, do I?" I said as the book continued to pound my head.

"Ana, the press has gone wild for the search. All have failed. No one knows how to find them, and the mysterious _C Grey_ doesn't want to be found."

Intrigued, I grasped the book from him, flicking through the pages, "Lincoln said I could have any story I wanted, as long as I had something to publish."

"Of course she did. Being around since the dawn of time, she's got you cornered in a no-win situation."

"Well fuck it, I'm going to try," I said slamming the book shut.

"Well good luck girl because you'll need it." He patted my back and I walked back to my desk with the turning point of my career nestled in my palms.

 **…..**

 **IF I WAS EVER** to have a real career in journalism, I needed to find the unknown _C Grey_.

The first thing I did was read _Beaten With Love_. Not once but almost three times. Paper tags created a collage of rainbow colors off its pages. I underlined and color coded everything to a slight sign to their identity, nuances, and references to locations. For two days I skipped lunch and began skim reading their other novels. All three in fact. I began to Google search as much as I could to begin my search to pinpoint _C Grey_.

"So how's it going, Ana?" Luke patted my back.

"Good," I rested my hand on the hardback, "Google is currently my friend." Through my fact-finding mission, I was developing an image of the person. One thing was for certain, they were from the Pacific Northwest.

"Any luck?" Luke asked, breaking my thoughts.

I sighed heavily, it had been two days, "Sort of but no clear-cut answers," I hesitated, "So Mr Sawyer, you've read the book, what are your theories?"

And of course, he surprised me when he blushed, "Sure."

"One thing," He pointed with his index finger to the ceiling, "have you noticed all the books do a well-written male perspective, especially when the hero struggles with the opposite sex." Luke laughed, "It has to be a dude, for one, there are no quivering cock twitches in these books. What dude says or even thinks that of his dick." he snorted.

I questionably looked at him with my arms crossed, "so how often do you read this genre?" now hooking my brow.

" _Well_ ," he rubbed his neck, "please don't tell anyone, but I'm a closet romance lover. A dude needs to read something when taking a dump. Guilty o-kay." he raised his hands in defeat.

"Umm eew. TMI." I stuck my tongue out to the side.

"So do you really think it's a guy?" I nodded.

"Well, they are a Mariner's fan and must have listened to Dave Niehaus commentary. _Salami time_ , so many references. Also, they never drank wine, only—"

"Craft beer."

"Right! It's strange, but did you know Washington State has the largest amount of craft beer breweries. Also the many references to coffee, baristas and cafe houses. Another thing, there was a small reference to Wheedle on the Needle."

"Ana… you're onto something. Keep me posted with any other finds." he smiled and rolled his chair back to his desk.

 **…..**

 **THAT NIGHT I READIED** myself for my latest Lincoln assignment, another charity event. Fortunately, I was interrupted by my mother in Montesano. As a given we spoke at least two to three times a week, and even though they were a day's drive away I never had the time to see them.

"Hi Momma," I answered, pressing the cell tight to one ear as I attempted to place my faux diamond stud in the other earlobe.

"Oh sweetheart, are you busy?"

I quickly looked at the time, "I've got a few minutes," and I quickly swapped ears to put in the other stud.

"Dad and I were disappointed you couldn't make it for Thanksgiving."

I pulled my head back, gritting my teeth, knowing that what I was about to say was going to break my mother's heart. "Yeah, about that," I replied all breathy, "I hate to tell you this, but there's a possibility I might not make it home for Christmas either."

" _What?_ " She squawked rather loudly into my ear. The disappointment was painful to hear.

"Momma, have you ever heard of _C Grey_ , _Beaten with Love_?"

She chuckled, "of course, who hasn't," _me apparently_ , "I have it on my Kindle and was hoping to have a signed hardback but I haven't been able to find one."

"I'm going to interview them."

"You know where they live? Oh, sweetheart please get a signed copy for me." For the first time in my life, my mother sounded giddy.

"Momma, I need to track this _C Grey_ down first … I only have dead ends, if only I could look at this from another angle but I'm stumped."

"From what I've heard, this _C Grey_ doesn't want to be found, sign books, or have an interview. Poor marketing I say." Exactly were my thoughts, but their books are still selling like hot cakes.

"That's just it Mom. This would be an investigative piece. My Editor told me to get the interview and I could have my pick of anything… any assignment. I'm using some of my vacation days to find this mystery, _C Grey_." I didn't need to mention that it all happened because I handed in my notice.

"Oh, Annie."

"I know, I know, I hate it too, but it's necessary… this could be my big break. Mom, a monumental break."

"Do you really think you could find them?" My mother asked.

"I don't know. I won't stop from a lack of trying, that's for sure."

"I've always admired your tenacious spirit. I'll tell your father—"

"No Mom! Let me try first, ok. I don't want to get his hopes up to only have them crushed. I know how he roots for me. He'll probably make a sign and pitch it in the front yard."

She laughed "You're right he probably would. So what have you found so far?" I visualized my mother tying her hair into a messy bun, preparing to tackle this overwhelming project with me, via call.

"Do you know where they were born?" she asked.

 _Oh, Momma please help me crack this._

"No, but each of his works has a strong reference to Washington State. I'm wondering if they were born here, or at least lived here as a child. But I couldn't find a birth certificate for a _C Grey_ other than a man who died several years ago, of all places in Bellevue."

"Grey is an unusual name since there are variations. I think I have something Annie, hang on for a moment, " I could hear my mother running and then a minute later panting on the line, "I have a first edition of the first book, it wasn't as popular and wasn't printed in the US, but the author's name was different, _C Trevelyan-Grey_. Then the second edition it was changed to _C Grey_. Do you think the name Trevelyan-Grey could be their legal name?"

"What the hell Mom!"

" _What!_ I love my romance, and it looked good, you know I find some strange things on the interwebs. And for once this seemed like a winner."

"Who was the publishing house?"

I could hear the pages turning, " _Kakadu House_."

"Huh? I've never heard of it." I quickly wrote down all this information.

"They are located in Australia honey. Do you think they are Australian?"

"Mom, I have no idea. I don't know what to believe." I lumped into my couch.

 _What have I got myself into?_

"Annie, do your best. You know we'll be proud whatever you do." Yeah, but I'm not so sure about my bank balance getting to the destination.

"I'll keep you updated. Send my love to Dad," like most fathers pushing sixty don't like the idea of speaking on the phone, Dad was one of them.

Off the phone, I could hear Mom call out, "Your daughter is going on an adventure for a big story, send your love Ray," Dad's words were muffled but I could identify each one, ' _Love you Annie Girl!_ _'_ And it melted my heart.

"Did you hear that?" she said.

I nodded with a tear in my eye as he was proud of anything that I did, "Yeah. I love you too Momma bear."

"Oh _shhh_ , now get into your research. Love you." And like that, we ended the call.

I dumped my cell in my small clutch, gave a quick glance in the hallway mirror, even though I was running late I hoped this will be my very last social event I will ever need to cover.

 **…..**

 **NESTLED IN MY CONFINED SEAT** , a final announcement dinged in the cabin, " _Welcome to Australia, the local time is ten past ten. Current temperature is a steady thirty three-degrees. Thank you for flying with American Airlines._ "


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Thank-you for all your positive feedback regarding the opening chapter. I appreciate every single review, favourite and follow.

 **BETA:** _Halo140_ and pusher _Stargazer93_

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO**

" **I CAN** **'T SPEAK LONG** , I'm using a payphone." The headset had a sticky residue on it, and with such a lack of sleep, my care factor was hovering at a zero.

"Why are you… hey, I didn't even know they still existed?" My co-worker questioned.

"My cell is dead, but listen—"

"You fucking found him?" Luke squealed into my ear, "I'm right, it's _a him_." I wouldn't doubt if he was fist pumping the air.

" _All passengers boarding flight 338 make your way to gate number nine._ _"_ The announcement echoed in the small airport.

"That's English but it didn't sound American. Ana where are you? An airport?"

"I'm currently in Darwin."

"California?" Luke was a living breathing atlas, of the States, but unfortunately, he was dabbling in the wrong country.

"No Australia. I still have another flight and God only knows how long a drive."

"What the fuck, he's Australian?"

"I need to go," I hurried, "but If I don't make it back in time for Monday can you make an excuse to Lincoln."

"Do you want me to tell her you've found—"

"No!" I yelled, trying to compose myself, "no, I want to present the story as a done deal."

"Jesus Christ Ana, you actually did it. You tracked him down." Luke said.

"Woah don't get ahead of me; I still don't have that interview or met the guy—"

" _Final Call for flight 338, could Anastasia Steele immediately board at gate nine_." A more urgent announcement called.

 _Shit._

"Sorry Luke, I need to go."

"He's young isn't he."

I refused to speak I had an idea what he looked like, I had seen photos throughout Grace's home.

"Fuck he is, and hot." Luke chuckled on the other end.

"For all I know he's nine hundred pounds."

"And fucking exaggerating."

Biting my tongue, I wanted to gossip but I need to bolt to my gate.

"From your silence, you already know," _I didn_ _'t_ , "Well good luck. I've got my fingers crossed for you."

"Thanks." I slammed down the phone into the receiver and ran for the gate. I was exhausted but there still was so far to go.

 **...**

' **GRACE TREVELYAN-GREY,'** It had to the _C Grey_ 's mother. Oh God, I hope it was. For days I've been looking outside the box, hoping for a lead. Mystery impossible author my ass, I'm Ana Steele and can overcome any obstacle.

A single marriage certificate, with a hyphenated name Trevelyan-Grey. She was a widow to a Carrick Grey. There was a record of three adopted children, but no names.

 _Damn it._

As soon as Momma mentioned the first edition with the small publishing house, I was on the phone and contacted _Kakadu House_. They had published a run of 500 books, until the author withdrew their services. In the end they basically were giving away the surplus stock, which didn't sell. I begged for any information, which they had little to start with, only an email address, unfortunately, they refused to hand over. Conveniently they did slip that _he_ refused to be contacted.

 _Gotcha. I'_ _m onto him._

The December wind and rain whipped against my face as I walked down the long drive to the mansion in Bellevue. My nerves knotted in my stomach as I pressed the doorbell, waiting. After a few moments, I heard footsteps on the other side of the door. The woman who opened it didn't look much older than my own mother.

"Grace Trevelyen-Grey?" I asked.

I towered over the petite woman with dark brunette hair, splashed with streaks of grey, resting slightly past her shoulders. She was wide-eyed as if she wasn't sure what to say, "Yes?"

"By chance are you related to a _C Grey_?"

She didn't answer immediately, as her gaze narrowed, "He was my husband, but I'm sorry. You're a few years late. He passed away."

I sighed, "No… I'm sorry for your loss, here wanting to speak with your son."

She hesitated, "You're another one of those nettlesome reporters?" her hands gripped the door, as her knuckles blanched to white.

"Well yes, I—"

Mrs Trevelyen-Grey began closing the heavy door, with quick instincts I inserted my foot, sacrificing a two hundred dollar heel in the process.

We stared at each other, "May I call you Grace?" she nodded, "I am a reporter, please hear me out." I begged.

"Why should I?" she demanded.

I frantically searched my mind for something, anything which would convince her to speak.

"The only reason which comes to mind, is the fact I'm tired of writing about pointless society dribble. I'm a society page reporter and hate it. I've worked hard all my life, but I've finally been given a chance. A real chance within the field. I'm giving up the possibility to spend time with my family in the hope I can get this interview. Grace you have an incredible son. His words… those books…" I was speechless, "are amazing. These novels have turned heads in the world of romance. I'd very much like to meet and interview him." I let out a breath after giving the speech of a lifetime.

A voice called from the other side of the wall, "Mom, what have I told you about answering the door." A tall slender woman with black hair stopped in her tracks. "You people never give up?" she pointed directly at my face, "You're a reporter, with one thing on your mind, my brother Christian. Mom come on—" she tried her best to usher Grace inside.

" _Mia!_ " Grace chastised her daughter.

"Mom you can't keep doing this," and Grace shook her head.

"No Amelia wait," which she continued to address me, "what do you mean you write for the society page?"

I blurted the cliff notes version of my frantic life and search. Of course, it's been a risk to tell her everything but there was no reason to be dishonest. I was doing this for my career and in the end the possibility of sacrificing Christmas with my parents.

"I'm trying to make my parents proud, six years they have been waiting and with four years of college on top of that. Grace, this is my last chance."

Grace eyed me carefully, what seemed like an eternity. The pressure on my foot slowly released as she released the door. She silently invited me inside, of course to the dismay of Amelia.

 _Note: daughter Amelia is quite protective of her mother_ _'_ _s actions._

"Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you, I appreciate your kindness." Stepping out of the cold, I instantly felt the warm flow of air surround her. I noticed her home was doused with holiday items, garland by the mile and the most adorable Christmas tree you would only imagine seeing in the movies. What surprised me were the sheer number snowflakes of varying textures of crystal, glass, cloth, and paper which covered her home.

Grace motioned toward the living room. I sat between Grace and her daughter as they eyed me deeply, "How much do you know about my son?"

I was unsure how best to answer. Should I bluff my way through, but then I was hoping Grace and now her daughter to help. So I guess honesty is the best policy.

"Well, only what I've read in his books and what I've learned online. I'm barely at the tip of the iceberg." I shrugged.

" _Mom_ ," Amelia quickly whipped a finger across her throat to kill the conversation, "Chris said to keep quiet."

 _Note to self: Christian has a nickname, Chris._

She shook her head, "Darling I don't even know your name…" She placed a hand on my lap.

"Oh my apologies, Anastasia Steele, but I prefer Ana," our hands locked and I offered my hand to Amelia but she declined.

 _Note: Amelia is very protective of her family_.

"Well, unfortunately, Ana, I don't know how much help I'll be. I haven't spoken to Christian in," she began looking at the ceiling as her fingers counted off, "oh too many years to number. I saw him briefly at his father's funeral. His mute behaviour made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with me or his siblings," she said as she waved the air around her, "He said he'd found peace… well away from—" she broke off, clamping her lips shut.

"Away from?" I was confused by her cryptic words.

"Everywhere." she panted out.

 _What the hell does that mean?_

" _Oh_." I barely stated.

"Yes, _ohhh_ , " Amelia repeated. "I know what you're trying to do, and stop prying _Anastasia Steele_ ," she whined out my name.

"Ana," I retorted, "There's no need to be formal."

I understood where Amelia was coming from, I was trying my best to remain calm and not push, but things weren't added up. I could read the pain in Grace's eyes, and not knowing how to react, I leaned forward and placed my hand over hers.

"I tried connecting with him after his father's death, but he made it clear that no matter what I had to say meant nothing." She wadded a tissue in her hands and kept her head lowered. "Why did I need to bring that man to the funeral?" she wept out loud.

" _Mom_ , it's ok. The asshole is gone and Chris is finally living his life. So please don't stop yours. Move on." she sat beside her mother, rubbing her back.

 _Move on? How could this poor woman move on, she was heartbroken, and wanted her son back?_

"So do you have any idea where Christian…" I paused, making sure that was his name, "is living?" I said, my heart thumping with hope and expectation.

 _Big break big break big break_ , I thought to myself mentally crossing my fingers.

"Ana, he's in the Northern Territory."

 _Was that within the Arctic Circle, possibly Canada, or was it further away in Europe or even Russia?_

"Australia, Ana. He tried to remove himself from us, far away as possible."

" _Oh_." I dropped my head.

Australia was a large country, much larger than Washington State and I'll need more than a few vacation days to even attempt this search. How long does it take to fly to Australia? Let alone the Northern Territory?

Then it came to me, the Kakadu House publishing company, this references to Australia.

"He's outside the capital city of Darwin."

"Mom he's hours from Darwin." Amelia groaned under her breath.

"Dear, I can see you calculating and I've done it myself. It will take you a good 24 hours to get into Darwin, then you'll need to drive quite a few more."

 _Ok, this is good, so I have a timeline. 24 hours plus a few, then a quick interview, and back again. I should make it back to work on Monday. It_ _'_ _s Wednesday, I can do this._

"Maybe you should give up before you start." Amelia groaned, it was obvious she was protecting her brother.

" _Amelia_! Ana can you give me a moment," she quickly got up and came back with a small notebook, "Here's a number…" she scrawled the information, "A Mr Jason Taylor. I've only met him once, but he's a true friend of my son. He works in the freight industry, hauling items back and forth," she said handed me his details. "I'm not sure how much luck you'll have, it's a challenging time of year, the weather, being so wet and unbearably hot."

"Mom what are you doing?" Amelia was frantic with the information which was being revealed. Viciously pointing towards her mother she couldn't find the words as her mouth opened and closed.

"I'm giving your brother a chance, and possibly this young woman an opportunity to reach her dream." Grace stated.

They both looked at one another like there was something much deeper, which they didn't want to discuss with my presence. Exactly what, was unknown.

"At least she's being honest Amelia," Grace said, "You can only imagine what lengths some tried, thinking I would divulge a slither of information leading to my son. At least you are admitting why you're doing this." she smiled at me.

"Yeah Mom, for her own gain!" Amelia scoffed. I couldn't disagree, it was the truth I was looking towards my big break.

"His stories…" Grace sighed looking away, "He always told these stories, with such violence."

"So you're referring to be BDSM and he told you stories, for years?"

 _Note: possible background in BDSM or undisclosed abuse? Research further._

She nodded, "But we, my husband and I, thought it was his imagination running wild, or at worst a sick fantasy. He was young, 14 or 15 when these stories started."

"But Grace, he's a romance writer, he must of…"

"Yes, yes, yes," she wiped her eyes, "Oh my darling Christian, he had such big dreams studying at Harvard business and suddenly it all changed. Then we lost him."

"Lost him?" I pulled back.

"He never forgave us you see…" Grace said. I instantly looked to Amelia trying to get something more. Grace, her voice trailed away as she methodically tore apart the tissue in her hands.

"Never forgave you?"

"I don't know all the details Ana but we all have an idea," she paused and I looked at Amelia's face it was cold and plank, "but we never listened or believed. All he wanted was to be loved and protected. As you maybe aware he was adopted—"

"I'm sorry Mother but I'm not playing a part in this. I don't want to lose my brother even further. This is not our story to share. I'll be expecting you for lunch on Sunday. Please, Mom, think of Christian and what it will mean to him."

Dusting her dress, she grabbed her coat and left. Grace flinched as her front door slammed and she waited to compose herself by taking a few deep breaths.

"Ana." She whispered as her hand patted my thigh, "Amelia is a handful, and my other son Elliot, oh he's not much better. She may not be showing it, but she's worried about her brother. Oh, Ana, Christian had a horrible childhood, his birth parents were abusive and neglectful."

"So the records are true, he was adopted,"

Grace nodded, picking at her tissue, "It scared him and scars where physical and emotional. Throughout his adolescence, he was such an angry young man, so violent. But it changed, like a flick of a switch. We thought he was growing up, taking responsibility. Things switched during college, he was a different person. Quit, packed up and left."

"He left?" were the only words I could manage.

"Yes, he traveled the world. It wasn't until his father's death, adoptive father, I hadn't seen him for about three years. He was happy but kept his distance. He didn't want anything to do with me. I don't understand and he shut us all out. It was like something broke him. He was a stubborn child and once that mind was set he would never change it, that's for sure. About a year after I saw him, I received a copy…" she got up again walking to the bookshelf, and handed me a hardback novel.

It was the book my own mother had mentioned to me, the debut novel _Disciplined to Love_ , and there was a cane on the cover and the author's name _C. Trevelyan-Grey_. Grace opened the cover and on the front page was a handwritten message.

 _Mother,_

 _If you only listened to my cries, comfort and helped me. I knew you were washed with lies, but I never thought you would take any word over your own son._

 _Yours forgotten,_

 _CTG_

"Oh Grace, I'm so sorry. I can't even comprehend what happened." I'm sure with my assumptions I can only imagine what occurred.

"It was horrible Ana, and I know it's affected him. Something like this you couldn't avoid being affected. I can read his pain in his novels." she wiped her eyes as the tears began to fall again.

"Why did he change his name?"

"He was trying to tell me to stay away. Remove my maiden name from his own. I truly wanted to speak to him, but I didn't have an address, a phone number he was a lost boy to me. When I noticed he republished with another publishing house here in America it was just his father's name, _Grey_. I'm waiting that he will let me back in. Oh, Ana, please find him, I'll wait for the rest of my life if needed. I want my boy back."

She removed the book from my hands and began to write in the book. She placed it in my hands and whispered, "Please give him this."

It was a message. A message I will never read as it was for her son's eyes only.

"Oh, Grace, what if… I—" I was lost for words.

"I wish I knew the man Christian had become. He would have been 28 on his last birthday. A man in his own right and all I want is to be a part of it."

I didn't need to question my decision, "Grace, I'll find him. I'll give him the book."

"Thank you. You are my guardian angel."

 **...**

 **ARRIVING IN DARWIN** was a reality check for a December morning. It was hot. Not like a summer in Seattle, think much warmer, possibly Satan's hell hole maybe a close assumption. It was deceiving at a constant 95 degrees, and the humidity could drown a small mammal. I was only surviving with my head above water. There was no point slapping on makeup because it would melt off. I did question myself if I should stay the night somewhere but I've come 24 hours of plane travel and another nine of stopovers. Time wasn't on my side, the goal was a fully written article so I needed to push myself, no matter how exhausted.

With a hand full of change, I slipped in some coins for the payphone. I punched in the ten digit number from memory.

"Yep." a husky voice answered.

I could only breathe hard, I didn't think it through what I would actually say or if the guy would actually answer.

"Hello? I can hear you breathn' Baz if that's you, hang on…" an inaudible _what the fuck_ flicked into my ear, "You a telemarketer. I'm soz, I'm not buying no bullshit from—"

"Oh I'm sorry, My name is Anastasia Steele. I'm looking for a Mr Taylor." I bit my lip, please don't hang up.

"Jesus, you are trying to sell me bullshit?"

"What?… No, I'm a reporter and I need to get to a Mr Christian Grey. I was given your name, I am speaking with Mr Jason Taylor."

 _Please don_ _'_ _t hang up, please don_ _'_ _t hang up._

"Mr Taylor? Shit woman, I'm him. But fuck call me _Tales_."

"Tales?" he chuckled at my question.

"Is it possible if we could meet? I'm on a strict timeline and this is rather urgent."

"Why do you need to see Chris?"

"I need to give him something from his mother."

"Oh shit, _Gracie_. Is it urgent, fuck, where are you _Merican Girl_?"

"Somewhere in Darwin, at the airport."

"Good. Ok so here's the thing." He began to ramble with this think Australian accent, "Ya needa go to Katherine, and then I can get you through to Chris. Easy." He seemed so sure of himself like there is no problem because I'm not. Where's Katherine?

"Couldn't you give me Christian's address or phone number?"

"Haha, nope, not so easy missy. I'll be in Katherine soon, hopefully you will too."

"Soon as in tomorrow, next week?" _Please say today_.

"S'arvo."

" _What?_ " I can't understand a word he's speaking, is it English?

"This af-ter-noon. Can. You. Un-der-stand. Me?" What a condescending asshole.

"Of course I do, I'll see you in a few hours and thank you again Mr Taylor."

"Fuck me, it's _Tales_. Only the Queen can call me Mr Taylor, or some kinky bitch."

"O-kay. See you."

And like that, it was set in stone. I was on my way meeting Christian Grey. The interview. My career. What can go wrong?

 **...**

" **FLIGHTS TO KATHERINE** , start from $650, plus GST. If you book in advance usually you can get a better price but bec—" I cut the woman off. This is highway robbery. I'm traveling less than 200 miles how can it cost almost three weeks rent.

"Fine. Book the next available flight."

"There is one departing within the hour."

"Perfect." I hissed, snatching the boarding pass from her.

I rolled my suitcase and dwindling bank account to the gate and waited. Watching through the floor to ceiling windows, a small plane, taxied on the tarmac, to my gate. Oh God, it's tiny.

Three hours later, I was in another hot, sweaty town, too many hours to number since I've slept. Making my way to the nearest payphone I dialed Tales. He instructed to meet at his workshop, located on the quiet end of Katherine.

It was when I was introduced to a middle-aged Indigenous man, with a mouth that would make a sailor blush. He was at least clean and willing, that's all I needed.

"So _Sheila_ will be our transport for this evening, I need to get to Tennant Creek before morning, but I can drop you off at Chris' place easy."

"It's a truck… a really big truck." I pointed, dropping my suitcase on the asphalt.

 _You can not be serious!_

"Yeah I know," he laughed at my expense, bastard.

" _But_ ," I pointed to my heels. My poor heels they had been through hell and back in the last day, but a truck ride too.

"Just whip em off, do you need a hand up." He winked.

"No, I'll be fine." pushing his hand away.

At first, I struggled with my pencil skirt, but I made it.

"The wet is comin' so it needs to be a quick stay, right? I'll pick ya up as I'm heading back tomorrow afternoon."

I nodded, unsure exactly what he was telling me.

"I called Chris, he said he'll be running late, but make yourself at home."

"Really? He said that."

" _Welllll_ ," he drawled, as he started the engine and jerking back and forward within the cabin, we were away, "not exactly, rather… _I don_ _'_ _t want no reporter in my home_." He quoted in the air letting the steering wheel go, "But you're pretty and Merican, and he's one you know." He gave me a wink, and quickly stumbled to steer the large vehicle.

"Yes, I met his mother and sister back in Seattle a few days ago."

"Ahhh _Gracie_ , she's such a babe. If only she digged a black fella like me, we would have been the perfect match," he laughed at himself, and I cautiously laughed along, not entirely sure why.

"Why are you doing this for me Tales?"

He stopped contemplating for a moment, "Chris is a lonely brutha, every fella needs his mutha, ya know. He's always by himself, using that fancy computer, but he needs a woman. To open his eyes, to see the _land_ ," wiped a hand through the air, "stars, the ancestors of the Dreamtime," he pointed to the ceiling of the cab, "and a woman," his two hands cupped his chest, "like you, Ana Steele. You're kind-a of a looker know." _What?_

"So you've mentioned. I have something from his mother. A message." I patted my bag. "I don't think he's the only one who's lonely."

"Remember this fella is all bark and no bite, ok a bit of a bight, but not poisonous. He can be a crazy fucker at times, but softy once you peel back those layers hey."

"Why Tales, thank you for your open opinion of Christian and your generosity driving me to hi—."

"Woah, woah… back up there _Merica_ Girl. You haven't met him yet. You might change your mind."

"What?"

He paused, "Nah just kidding," he laughed and then pulled his horn, to scare the kangaroos off the highway. _Holy shit, I saw a kangaroo_.

We drive in his truck for about three hours and eventually turn onto a dirt road.

"Is that safe?" I pointed to the red dirt.

"Yeah, don't worry not far now,"

When he said, ' _not far now_ _'_ , my assumption was possibly a few minutes, in reality, it was over an hour later. He said the gate is too small for his truck to fit and he was dropping me off at the front.

"So it's maybe another 500, maybe 800 metres to his place, down there," he pointed beyond the trees into the darkness of the night.

"What's that in feet or miles?"

"500 to 800 metres, fuck I don't know. Not far."

"Well thank you Tales, I'll see you sometime tomorrow."

"Ha yeah, if that rain don't come. See ya _Merica_ Girl."

I jumped from the side cab of the truck, and my feet landed on the soft dirt, quickly putting my heels back on since I knew Australia was known for its creepy crawlies and I don't want these toes to touch them.

It was dark, peaceful, and HOT! The sky was awashed with stars. I wasn't entirely sure what time it was. Sounds blew in the slight breeze, with her head bowed I struggled with everything against me, including my heels, sinking into the dirt. I swear I heard a sound of a wolf. Are there wolves in Australia, or is it a dingo?

 _Oh, Fuck._

Looking up, I squinted, and what I saw caused my heart to shoot up my throat. It was an animal, I swear a fucking wolf, and it was racing towards me…. fast. At a pace, I won't be able to outrun. Kicking off my heels, and abandoning them, this was a life and death sacrifice. I ran, dumping my suitcase, in the sense I could run faster. The soft soil was making it nearly impossible to make headway as my toes slightly sank with every step.

Then it happened.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._

I stumbled. Face first in the sandy dirt. Spitting out the bitter remnants. My pencil skirt was giving me grief and I quickly hiked it up. The level of underwear showing was high, but fucks given to live were even higher. It was no use, the wolf, beast, dingo or whatever it was… it was almost on top of me.

 _I love you, Momma, Dad_ _…_ _Luke, you have been a great friend. Lincoln I fucking hate you, why did I take up this assignment._

 _FUCK!_

Screaming, I twisted around and bunched my fists over my face, in hope, I could survive the beast.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Thank-you for all of your reviews for chapter 2. I appreciate every single review, favorite and follow (keep them coming). From now on I will be updating every 12 hours (give or take an hour or two) so the story will be finished in time for Christmas.

 **BETA:** _Halo140_ and pusher _Stargazer93_

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE**

 **IN MY HANDS WERE** the prettiest shoes I had ever seen. Sparkling blue, pinks, purples. The memory was vivid as though it happened yesterday. We weren't rich, or poor, but lived within our means in retrospect.

" _Are these for me?_ _"_ _my stumpy fingers ran over the glitter. They were like stars, the most beautiful shoes._

" _Of course,_ _"_ _Daddy_ _'_ _s face crinkles up, with lines around his mouth._ _"I'_ _ll give you anything baby girl, you asked for shoes and these are the mightiest pair in the neighborhood._ _"_

At the time I didn't realized they were a discarded pair I didn't like. Momma told me years later my Dad spent hours gluing almost two pounds of glitter on them. They were shoes for his shining girl, a galaxy of stars for me to wear.

Through my entangled limbs, I saw those shoes again, but it was the real cosmos above. I rolled trying my best using a fleshy barrier where sharp canine teeth could pierce. What hope did I have in this losing battle.

 _Thump, thump, thump._

A pandemonium of nerves flowed through my chest, the warmth pooled in my ears as my hearing became distorted. I couldn't catch my breath as I moved, only shallow jerky motions. I wanted to breathe, but this big ass wolf was coming for me.

 _Thump, thump, thump._

Tears trickled down my cheeks and the soil stuck to my face. Copious bodily fluids clumped at my nostrils. The impending attack was near.

 _Thump, thump, thump._

Is this what fear felt like? Courage running for the hills? All I knew death was nine inches from my face. Goodbye world.

Two distinct words ' _GT, heel,_ ' bellowed from a husky, yet recognizable American voice.

The animal's warm breath panted in quick successions against my damp face. I turned as a dark silhouette grew closer. My eyes were blurred, impossible to focus no matter how many times I blinked. The night was warm, a change was near as a cool breeze brushed my face twirling through my mane. It was as if this man brought along the change. My eyes were weary from travel but clearly I followed each of his long powerful strides. I gazed up at them, embracing the sky above. The glitter, the moon and million twinkling stars of the cosmos. As my tears subsided, the beast, now appeared nothing other than a dog. The non-killing kind, but still full of patience it waited on its haunches for the man.

 _His master._

Was this _the Christian Grey_?

The man bent over amused by the way my body curled into the fetal position. Of course, his redundant beast of a companion shared his glare.

" _What?_ " I groaned, rubbing the utter mess on my face.

He was almost shrouded by the shadows of night, but I could identify enough of a smirk which didn't help the situation.

 _Asshole_.

It was his eyes which caught my attention, a cloud lit of grey you would see before a thunderstorm. I shivered as the wind picked up, even though my body was in constant limbo in this ridiculous heat. I was caught by his storm. He panted worse than the dog, and I waited for a howl or a bark. Fuck me, he was more intimidating than the wolf, dingo… _shit_ , dog. Well that snarky little beast beside him.

"Why are you on my land? Who are you?" His questions came fast through his deep stern voice, still those eyes screamed, _stay the fuck away_.

Leaning down, he hooked my arms pulling me to my feet. A little unstable at first, I wiped my skirt and what was left of pride, and suddenly my bearings were finally found on the Australian soil.

I raised my head to see the man's full height, noticing his raw dirty demeanor. Without a doubt I was waiting for his fangs to drop, but in reality, this man was the worlds most famous romance author. His clothes had seen better days. Jeans ripped and a tight fitted tank barely covering his torso. I wasn't complaining by the amount of flesh which was on show, it was surreal.

"You're so pretty," My unrecognizable voice whispered.

It's comment for my brain's functionality to fail when I'm lacking sleep, in this case muttering an embarrassing confession, due to my lack of filter. Of course if I had a delete button, I would be pounding that key. Who am I kidding, he was delicious. I wanted to lick those rippling arms with veins running to his hands oh did I meant his abs of steel under that tank.

 _Shit!_ "I mean your dog." I said while pointing to the beast.

 _Excellent recovery Ana._

"He's gorgeous by the way." I cooed.

" _She_ bites!" he hissed and I pulled my hands high over my chest not wanting to lose a finger.

 _NOTE: His dog is female, possible biter._

There were no formalities of name exchanges and even the crickets began to sing. I slipped my two ruined shoes on my dirty feet. Without warning large hands hurled me over a shoulder. My head dangled upside down, I was pissed but my strength evaporated from my adrenaline filled near death experience.

So I'll give my time to recharge, as I stare at the sight of his tight ass cupped within his jeans. I can argue with the man later while I'm in a vertical position.

I imagine I must look like death warmed up, with ruined heels, sweat pooling in places I never thought possible, and my hair. _Urggh!_ Keratin treatments didn't stand a chance, on this continent as my curls matted… _everywhere_. I doubt the birds nest would trend this season.

" _Oh God, My suitcase!_ " I shrieked as my hair lumped back and forth. It was by chance I turned to see he had my luggage in his other hand and the obedient beast trailed behind.

By the time we reached his homestead it felt like days. Mr Grey pulled the screen door with his pinky, and it snapped back as we entered. He lowered me, my vision grew spotty, as I staggered finding it impossible to stand upright. This man's presence dominated the small space, and his two broad hands surrounded my entire waist as he placed me in a rickety old chair.

With his legs parted and hands bracing his hips, "I hate repeating myself but, why are you here?" he said.

I did my best to answer, but exhaustion hit me and my lips remained sealed. The rickety chair gave comfort as I slumped down, kicking my heels to the other side of the room.

The curtains flapped as a refreshing breeze blew throughout the hut. My eyes darted around with the little time I expected to be here, I needed to absorb my surroundings. This is known as researching, not snooping. I can't forget I have an interview to prepare.

Its exterior was deceiving, built of brick and tin. The surprise were walls lined with shelves bursting with books. Hardback, softcover, and worn novels on their last reads. Small trinkets doused his home of Mariner swag, photos, pictures and a single crystal snowflake. His home was busy, too many rugs, carpets, and endless furniture for this small house to hold.

" _Jesus_ ," His fingers raked through the auburn curls, "Answer me… why are you here?" I flinched not from his harsh tone rather each step he was moving towards me.

" _I…_ " First of all, I needed a moment to think this through. I didn't want to be kicked out. "My name is Anastasia Steele." I blurted out unsure what was appropriate to say.

 _I need to interview you so I can further my stagnant reporting career, but don_ _'_ _t mind me barging in uninvited._

"I don't care about your name. _Why are you here?_ " the deep voice strained through his teeth.

Those gray eyes were vicious, and his glare further informed me I was filth. For some reason I've offended him, because now couldn't even bear to look at me, stomping to the stove placing a pot with water and resting two mugs on the counter.

I shouldn't have come? Why did I think I could pull this off?

 _Ana keep your shit together, do not cry. Don_ _'_ _t show this ass defeat._

Mr Grey studied me like I was a foreign concept. Looking down at myself, I brutally was, with my ruined work attire, and dusty bare feet. Did I look pathetic?

"Do you have something clean and more appropriate to wear?" Ok, I got my answer, "Like _thongs_?"

I scoffed at his statement, " _excuse me,_ did I hear you correctly?" I pointed at the ass, "You want me to wear lingerie. I'm sorry, we've only become acquainted." he rolled his eyes.

He furrowed in his pile of shoes, on a mission to find a certain particular pair, "Finally! Wear these," he said as he threw a pair of flip-flops at my face. "Your expensive heels are redundant in this landscape missy." Mr Grey said nothing further only smirking as his finger swung one of my expensive heels around his finger.

"Hey that's mine, could you pl—"

I was winded as he hurled it at my stomach, huffing at the force. My eyes watered as I saw the permanent damage. My Louboutin was ruined.

"My poor baby," I whispered, stroking the tainted shoe. Don't worry I can buy more back home.

"Anastasia Steele we're in a desert, and you wore heels?" he chuckled.

Squatting flies, the sweat continued to drip, I wasn't sure how long I was going to survive here. I grew up in the country, but Montesano was no comparison to the Outback.

I was hot and dropped my long now dusty red blouse to the floor, where my lace camisole remained. He went straight to my property, flipping open the suitcase, sifting its contents, while groaning at the state of my attire. At the time of packing I didn't expect to be in the desert, so the majority of the clothing was for a Seattle winter.

"What were you thinking?" he grumbled as the case slammed.

Once again he stormed off, heavy footed like a herd of elephants into the next room. While returning he placed a pair of boxers, and a huge t-shirt on my rickety wooden chair.

"Use them," he barked, stomping towards the other side of the room.

"I'm filthy, can I bathe?" I tried to wipe the dirt off my body.

"I only have tank water, and it's precious stuff out here. So no."

" _Oh_."

I made do with makeup wipes to refresh my soiled skin. Needing to change, I reached for the zip of my skirt resting on my hip. No matter how hard I tugged, it didn't budge. I didn't know what to do other than groan in frustration. Mr Grey stomped over huffing and puffing like a big bad wolf only to get down on his knees. He looked up at me, slowly running his fingers over the jammed zipper. Everything slowed down, my breathing, my fluttering eyes, and my heart. I noticed his freckles over his tanned face and suddenly the zip was released.

Our fingers briefly touched as though we were sparked with a live current, instantly pulling back. Terrified my skirt would fall to the floor I bunched my hand tight, holding onto it for dear life. There was no way in hell I was revealing my underwear to this man, no matter how good looking. I'm a girl of strong morals.

 _Don_ _'_ _t even think about fucking the headline._

Giving me some privacy Mr Grey left the room and I slipped on his t-shirt and rolled the boxers up around my waist so they wouldn't fall. I cleared my throat, allowing him to return.

I sat on the chair watching his every move as I wanted to remember everything about him for the article. Right away I noticed he was large, he moved with a grace and ease that defied his size. His hair was sun-kissed, blond tips to his auburn roots. It was long, in need of a trim as the curls tickled his ears. A dusty ginger scruff covered his face, and a narrow nose with a slight curve, possibly it had been broken in the past. While he didn't appear to be hunk-calendar material, I still found the raw bushman appealing.

 _Very appealing._

 _Morals Ana. Do not fuck the headline._

It was when a pair of thin rimmed glasses rested on his face, it didn't balance. I'm not talking about his crooked nose, rather the designer frames.

The extent of our dialogue was minimal, it was obvious he had guessed I'm a reporter. A single glare informed he will remain tight-lipped, giving little to no information I could publish.

As the water bubbled away, he threw a tea bag and a single cube of sugar into each mug. He poured the boiled water, overfilling one. " _Shit_ ," he cursed, turning back to me with hazy eyes.

 _Easy Grey._

With a quick flick of the wrist, the tea bags were dumped into the sink and a mug was set in front of me.

"It's like 100 degrees and you're giving me tea?" I watched as steam billowed from the mug.

"Drink." his mouth blew, cooling his drink.

"No milk, why thank you."

"I don't know if that was sarcasm or not. Appreciate it, I saved your ass so the native fauna won't get you." he winked.

Little did he know, I wasn't being sarcastic, only honest. A quick dunk of tea, one sugar and never any milk, is my go too. My eyes glared into the mug with slight chips around the rim of the mouth, as I sipped it scalded but the pain is always needed for the perfect brew. Simplicity at its best in liquid form, well if you remove all alcohol from my life.

I continued to research, studying his home. Everything inside looks recycled, reused and most definitely not new from Macy's. The space was compact and beautifully utilized. The kitchen area was complete with sink, mismatched counters, and contrasting cupboards. The stove was the age of my grandmother and his table and two chairs weren't far behind in age. It had a rustic feel, which flowed into the cozy sitting area. GT laid on a mat of bright colors by the screen door to catch the evening breeze. Two small sofas nestled either side of the window. There were lights I assumed from a natural power source as there wasn't a hum of a generator. But my eyes couldn't resist as they came back to his books which littered the place.

"My name's Ana," I offered my hand, hoping by being friendly he'd be willing to chat. "Ana Steele."

He ignored me and sat down on the couch well away from me at the kitchen table.

"I apologize for arriving unannounced."

"I know you didn't walk, so who dropped you off?" His question was clipped and jaw tight.

So I guess Tales… _God damn it!_ He hadn't called him after all.

"Mr Taylor." I nodded.

He broke into a belly of laughter, "I'm sure he loved the formality. Did you pay him?" he looked at me from head to toe.

Scoffing at his tone, "Well not in sexual favors if that's what you're thinking Mr Grey." he snickered. His lack of maturity irritated me, "Absolutely, nothing. We discussed terms, but—"

"What did he charge? A slab of XXXX?" he scoffed.

 _What the hell is a slab, let alone XXXX? What are we referring to porn, fuck?_

"I don't even know what that means? Is that currency used here, it sounds… _pornographic_." I hushed.

"Beer. It's a case of beer." I laughed at my expense.

" _Oh_. In fact no. He didn't ask for alcohol." Pursing my lips.

For the first time, I noticed a small nook on the other side of the room. He had another table set there, with a lone chair, on its last legs. Resting on the table was a laptop, and what looked like a radio.

If I only had his email address, I wouldn't be in this mess right now. I'm sure if I only had his email address, I wouldn't be getting broken grammar in a foreign dialect because he's so cryptic.

"Your hu— home is amazing, you know all the conveniences." I tried to ease the storm brewing inside.

"Yeah, I even have an outback dunny too."

" _What?_ " There he goes again, slipping out of recognizable English, "I mean you have a computer, but then I shouldn't be surprised. I know you only work via online." I tapped my nose.

Nothing. I didn't even get a head nod or an ass of a smirk on his face. This one-sided conversation was going downhill fast.

"I read your books," I attempted conversation again, "They are amazing. The stories are detailed and rich with such language most authors can't even obtain. It's a rare gift. Even my mother is obsessed, and that's a rare feet. She's always so indecisive and ends up watching Netflix." I paused, leaving it open for a retort.

Nothing, as he continued to sip his hot tea.

" _Beaten with Love_ is on the bestseller charts and has been for months, but you probably knew that."

I stopped realizing I was chatting too much. It was a one-sided conversation. Did I lose consciousness, and this man was a figure of my imagination? A desert mirage with no palm tree in sight.

"I'm grateful you found me," I said, giving myself a pinch in good measure.

It hurt and again he gave nothing.

"Mr Taylor wanted to say that the rains were coming, and needed to get down to Tent Crick, and back again."

" _Tennant Creek_ ," he corrected.

"Right." I clamped my lips shut. It was difficult maintaining this cheerful facade with little to no feedback. "I bet you're dying to know how I found you." This should get him talking.

Unfortunately, no it wasn't. By the looks of it, Mr Grey had no interest in speaking with me, no matter how I directed the conversation.

"Ok, I get it, selective mutism, that's fine. I understand." I sighed, as I watched him arch a brow, "I mean, I've intruded on your life and I realized it was unbelievably rude of me."

The tension was strong, it felt like the air could be carved with a large blade. I was losing my patience, and fast. I didn't gallivant across the globe, to prevent my dream.

"The challenge was right from the start trying to find you," I said. GT, directed her gaze at me, "Oh who's a good girl, you're such a friendly doggie, aren't you?"

Like her master, GT gave no sign that was heard. The canine's eyes were steady on me, watching my every move, no wagging of tails here. With Mr Grey freezing me out, I looked at his companion for some connection. At this point, I was willing to accept whatever GT was willing to give me.

"My life flashed before my eyes, racing up on me like that," I told GT. Bending forward I stretched out my hand, making sure she understood that all I wanted was to pet her.

"She… _bites_ ," Mr Grey clipped almost welcoming my destruction, starting with my hand.

GT's gaze flickered to her master and then back to me.

"Are you a big bad wolf?" I asked her.

The dog's eyes met mine, and GT moved resting her chin on her paws. To my utter amazement, she wagged her tail. Only once, a single shift to state that she no longer considered me a threat. It was enough to make me want to fist pump the hot air around me.

"Just so you know GT, I'm friendly. _Friends?_ " Against his instruction, I pulled out my hand for GT to see.

And of course the warnings came again, "I wouldn't do that if I were you. And my medical supplies are low." Damn it, I chickened out withdrawing for the second time.

GT lifted her head and looked up at me, and her tail began to move, this time to a full wag as if to tell me she was willing to trust.

"Jesus, you're like the other bitches in my life. You wound me GT, tenfold." Mr Grey muttered to his dog.

"You know Mr Taylor isn't a traitor," I insisted, "and neither's the dog." he snorted, as he continued sipping his tea.

"Mr Grey, I'm a reporter." I needed to start over, "I write for a small paper in Seattle. Actually, my position covers the society pages. It's painful and far from my favorite subject matter, but I was grateful to get the job after some poor choices I made in my teens. Don't let this fool you. I'm an exceptional reporter, and I wanted an opportunity to prove that I was capable of writing something other than who was seen where and with whom. I'm sick to death of writing about meaningless bullshit events or who's fucking who." Well, that got his attention as his body straightened. "I was ready to quit and handed in my notice, but my editor had other plans. She said I could have any assignment I wanted if I managed an interview with you. I'm holding her word to it. Now at the time, I had no idea how fucking difficult it would be to find you."

 _Or engage in conversation._

I didn't have a filter and unable stop. I can only hope once he hears my story and is willing to cooperate. Eventually, he'd need to succumb to his selective muteness, and it might as well be me. Since I'm the only one who has found a way to reach him, now that should prove something. Mr Grey must know his novels are a phenomenal, with readers itching to find out every detail about him.

"You do realize how I found you? There will be others…" He glared demolishing my honest words. "Your books are amazing, your readers want to meet the writer behind these haunting dark titles. Surely you realized when you published what pandemonium it would cause?"

He remained unmoved. So it was time to play another tactic. The sorry card.

"I gave up spending time with my family to find you, but it will be worth every minute of my vacation days, and more if you are willing to give me an interview." I pleaded.

I was willing to get on my knees and beg. At this point his eyes raked over my body, lingering at my t-shirt clad breasts and I crossed my arms over them for protection.

"Is sympathy what you want?" he questioned.

"Well, no… of course not." I sighed, "ok," pinching my thumb and finger together, "Maybe a bit." he briefly closed his eyes beginning to shake his head.

"I'll tell you what," I said, using the same cheerful tone I'd resorted to earlier. "I'll let you preview everything I collate, plan, write… whatever, to ensure I get your stamp of approval. You say the word no, and it won't get printed."

"You're a society writer, you expect your faux speech to convince me?"

"Of course." I nodded, "I wouldn't want to lose your trust, I'm honest and a woman of her word."

He scoffed, "You'll be the first." He stated as they dripped with disdain.

Walking to his nook, where his computer and radio were set up, he sat on the ancient chair. Switches were flicked and pressed, as he placed an oversized set of headphones over his ears. It was obvious he was trying to radio his friend Mr Taylor.

The one-sided conversation was solely on the topic of me.

"If this is a joke, I'm not laughing." Mr Grey said, never lowering his voice. From his reaction, Mr Taylor was apparently amused.

"You're way off," Christian shouted into the microphone. "Having a woman here, a reporter isn't doing me a favour Tales. I don't care who she is or who she knows."

There was a long pause as Mr Taylor replied, but I couldn't decipher the conversation.

"I don't want her here. _Final_." Silence followed and Christian rubbed his hand over his stubble, which could only assume was frustration.

"You have twenty-four hours, Tales." He slapped his hand on the top of the table. "No! I don't care about the rains. You did this asshole. Collect her immediately, I don't need the complication."

Well, if my presence wasn't welcomed earlier, it's gone to the depths of hell. Being isolated here any longer than needed seemed a suicide mission. The sooner Mr Taylor retrieved me the better. I needed to be in Seattle, not here in Australia. I can only imagine what is happening with the society calendar, a mountain high with parties to cover. If worse came to play I would be stuck in the outback. Lincoln would forgive me as long as I had the full article on her desk. Even in the short amount of time, I could relay many interesting details about the man.

 _For starters his stinking attitude._

"Twenty-four hours. _Over_." Christian ended the conversation with what sounded like a threat.

What would happen if Mr Taylor didn't return in time? Surely Christian wouldn't kick me out, to deal with the harsh climate of Australia. Would he?

Remaining frozen as he finished, hardly knowing what to say or do. I chose nothing. Selective mutism at its best, or a hint of reverse psychology to work in my favor.

Christian reached for his mug and drank down the last of his tea in a single gulp, dumping it into the sink. I began to follow him. The slapping of my flip-flops on the uneven floors was disturbing the once silent home. Unfortunately, I was closer to him than either of us realized, because when he turned, I was almost knocked down.

With his hands braced against my upper arms, he glared down at me, a deep frown etched on his forehead. "Stay out of my way." each word was distinctly spoken, leaving no doubt about the strength of his feelings. _Fuck off._

"I'm sorry… that was an accident." I whispered.

How can I get this man to cooperate? He swung the screen door shut, causing the small building to shake. Staring at the closed door, I was too stunned to move. My hopes were high for this interview, but if this tea break was any sign to go by, then my career was going down in flames.

GT remained by the door, seemingly content. I got down with my legs crossed, and she dubbed her snout on my knee.

"He doesn't like me," I told the dog. GT lifted her head to gaze at me.

"You know I can't blame him. I barged into his life, and this is the price, ruined heels, mosquito bites, and the oversized clothes belonging to a selective mute." To my delight, GT lifted her chin and then rested it on top of my foot. Although Mr Grey had warned of biting, I gently placed my hand on her head, giving her a moment to adjust, my hand went down the length of her spine.

"You're nothing like the big, bad wolf Christian Grey makes you out to be," I whispered. "You're a snugly teddy bear, "and I was simply won over if GT's lick of approval was any sign to go by.

At least someone was on my side. It didn't matter they were not homo-sapien.

"I should interview you instead," I suggested as her ears perked up. "Oh you like the sound of that," she wagged her tail full of excitement. "GT, tell me, what is it like—" The door opened again, and Mr Grey came in holding something long, throwing it in the sink.

"Can I do anything to help?"

 _What the hell was that?_

"Can you skin a snake?"

" _What?_ " I shrieked.

"It was rustling about, I got it. It's good fresh meat for GT." and he picked it up, dangling it in my face. Something I would not like to inspect.

"I..I..I—" stuttering, unable to make a sentence.

"I thought as much. So leave." he hissed.

"I can't."

"And don't I know it. Fucking Tales. I can see it now, it's going to be one of his yarns to his fellas back at the mob."

Again being lost by his English, I asked, "I'd hoped…"

"What exactly…" I stood still with my mouth wide, unable to speak, "I'd assumed as much. And now I'm stuck with you."

"Which I've apologized," but he only rolled his eyes, "Is there somewhere you would like me to put my suitcase and sleep?" I asked.

"You mean like in the guest suite?" he hinted with strong sarcasm.

"Of course."

He snickered, "There is only one-bedroom Anastasia, meaning only one bed, and there is no way in hell I'm sleeping on that," he pointed to the well worn small sofa.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** Thank-you for all of your reviews for chapter 3. I appreciate every single review, favourite and follow. If you didn't read from last chapter, I'll be updating every 12 hours (give or take an hour or two).

 **BETA:** _Halo140_ and pusher _Stargazer93_

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOUR**

" **YOU EXPECT ME TO SLEEP** … on that?" I pointed at the sofa in question, "I don't have any option, do I?"

Mr Grey shook his head, "Other than the bathtub, but I wouldn't trust the spiders," he shivered, "My property. My rules."

I rolled my case, groaning at its weight plonking it on one of the sofas, and then dashing to the other. My ass planted deep within the sofa, as I began to sink into the upholstery.

 _Well fuck you, Mr Grey, I hope you_ _'_ _re happy._

GT came up to my makeshift bed, curling up on my feet. If I were home the temperature would be perfect for this scenario, but I'm trapped in Satan's playground of detesting heat. Mr Grey's face seethed anger and utter rejection, which made GT's warmth a little more bearable.

"As you can see the sofas belong to GT," He crossed his arms. I assumed he was telling me, ' _woman sleep on the floor_.' But I wasn't going to give into his taunts.

"I'm not complaining," I treated GT as one of my teddy bears, snuggling into her while petting her crown, "it's perfect."

His arms remained crossed, as his glare tore me limb from limb.

My dreams were only eyelids away, as my arms whipped around my belly to dull the hunger pain. It groaned louder, no matter how hard I willed it to stop. For some reason, I wasn't the only one who heard my insides eating themselves.

A slam of a plate and cutlery scraping against one another pricked my ears. _What the hell was he doing?_ The gurgling and growls continued to build, reminding me, cheese and pretzels were not sufficient meals.

Throwing my head into the cushions of the sofa, I wanted to hide from the world.

"Being marooned wasn't my plan you know," I bellowed the reminder even though I was suffocating on the sofa. "I want to be in Seattle, my work… ok, so Luke can cover for me, but…" I stopped flicking my head up for fresh air.

It was clear he had no interest in me. Why would the words of a useless little reporter even matter?

A large plate pushed into my chest, "You should have considered your urgent need to be in Seattle prior arriving here, Miss Steele." At this point, I didn't exactly care. All I knew my insides were eating me alive and a primitive form of sustenance was on a plate.

Not bothering to see my offering, I sank my teeth into the crusty white bread. It was fairly stale, but edible. As I swallowed the first bite, it was most definitely a required taste. Salty, and an unknown condiment to my palate.

"Oh don't give me that look, Miss Steele. My supplies are low, and it's late. A Vegemite sanga is all you're getting."

 _Sanga? There he goes again, slipping into an unknown language._

I grimaced with every bite as I finished my Australian delicacy, possibly my last meal with Mr Grey. Immediately he trudged into a room, assuming the bedroom, returning with a pillow and a sheet. Without words, he handed them to me. Our fingers touched again, and unlike before we didn't pull away.

" _Thank you_ ," I kindly acknowledged his gesture and like that our little connection was broken again.

He may have the personality of stone but there was no way I'm allowing this to affect me.

 _Ok, who was I kidding, of course, he was affecting me, and there is no reason to dwell on the situation, scenario_ _…_ _event. Fuck, damn it I am. Fuck you, Mr Grey._

As I made my bed, profusely apologizing to GT, she continued to wag her tail, probably excited to have a snuggle buddy, since Mr Frosty over there presumably never allows it.

Lying down, curling up my legs so they weren't hanging over the edge, GT leaped to my feet, snuggling my lower extremities. Although I was exhausted, my mind continued to race, "He's not going to give me the interview," I whispered to the dog.

The poor thing probably has never been spoken to this much in its life. Rolling onto my back staring at the many patched paint jobs on the ceiling, I asked her another question. "Would you like to be interviewed GT?" I pet her head. She rested her chin against my thigh, and sighed, "Well I'll take that as a yes," and her slimy tongue licked my hand, "Good. GT, tell me what is it like living with Mr Frosty," GT tilted her head, staring. "Ok, what's it like living with Christian Grey? The esteemed best selling romance author of _Beaten with Love_."

I waited, pretending to listen to GT's answer. All I received was another head tilt, "So am I hearing correctly, you enjoy spending countless hours with such a grumpy master?" I paused, "What do you mean he really isn't a big bad asshole I've assumed? I think we need to set a bar here GT because that's a tad unbelievable." GT barked, and I couldn't help but laugh, "Of course, you're right, Christian Grey has shown me a lack of everything, especially conversation. I know it's unfortunate we haven't reached any form of agreement, but GT, it's only a matter of time and I'm out that door."

As I pointed to the front door, a strained laugh came from the bedroom. _Gotcha_ Mr Grey I knew you would be listening.

"Yes GT, of course. To you he's wonderful, feeding you snake and these lodgings are amazing." I stated as I waved my arms around me, "Unfortunately for me… how can I put it… he's rude, arrogant, and an egotist. Yes, I realize that's a big word for you girl. Basically, it means he's hung up on himself."

For the second time, a sound came from Mr Grey, which was a sure sign he was listening to my interview.

"Please go ahead. Ask any question you have…GT surely will answer for me," Mr Grey called from his room.

"Like I explained earlier, these readers are interested in learning what they can about the author of these amazing novels. They see _C Grey_ as this mysterious marvel, but oh boy if they could see him now." I scoffed at my own words.

Clearing my throat I projected a little louder, "Oh you want to know how I found him GT when others had failed? Mr Taylor asked that very same question. He told me a handful of reporters have tried to bribe him to help locate Mr Grey, but he could never betray his friend. ' _Brutha_ _'_ _s of Oth-da Mudda_ _'s_ ,' were his exact words."

I fell back onto my make-shift bed, yawning as my sleepy head was clouding my thoughts. I'm two days past my bedtime.

"Answer the question," Mr Grey stood in his bedroom's doorway, stretching his arm over the top of the frame. "I'm curious. How did you convince him? He's a good friend, and I know he doesn't sway easily."

" _Really?_ Well, it didn't take much swaying on my part," Mr Grey continued to glare as I sat upright, wrapping my arms around my bent knees.

So this was how the man was going to open up, hit him with the reality of the truth.

"If you must know, I mentioned your mother."

"What? Grace?" Christian yelped, "She has nothing to do with this." While waving a hand in-between us.

"I spoke with her and—"

"You hunt down my mother?" His voice strained in what came across as anger.

"Well, yes… I mean I didn't exactly stalk her or anything malice. I Googled her, she was listed in the white pages and I ended up on her doorstep." Thinking it through it was stalkerish, "give me credit, so have others, but unlike the others, I convinced her to speak. Grace and Amelia—"

" _Mia?_ Oh fuck this gets better and better." He retorted with a tight-lipped smile.

"Your sister didn't approve—" with a single hand raised, he brought my words to a halt.

"I'm sure she didn't," his anger continued to seethe through his tight mouth.

"Well your mother and I had a good chat, and—"

It only took two large paces, for his towering body to stand in front of me. Mr Grey braced his hands against his hips squeezing tight as his teeth gritted together. A deep growl roared from his chest while he stared as if I were the lowest of the low. I wanted to censure him for intimidation, but I barely had the energy to stay awake, let alone provoke him further.

"You spoke with her, _my mother_?"

"Like I said."

"I don't care what she said. I want nothing to do with her."

I sighed, feeling wretched for Grace when all she wants is a connection with her lost son.

"She told me that you'd probably react like a buffoon if I mentioned her name." I jeered, as I waited for him to beat his chest like a great ape.

"She was the one who pushed me away, made me run…"

"Mr Grey—" I tried to explain but his interruptions continued.

"For the love of God, stop with the formalities. Call me _Christian_."

"Well, _Christian_ you must know she loves you, I don't know all the details—"

"Good." He murmured crossing his arms over his chest.

 _What the hell is going on?_

"Listen, Miss Steele," his lips melded together as air flushed through his nose, "This is none of your business. And stay the fuck out of it." He marched back to the bedroom and slammed the door, causing everything in his home to shake.

 _For all, I care he can shrivel up and die!_

Lying back on the uncomfortable sofa, GT warmed my feet, "He really has mommy issues, doesn't he?" I told her, lowering my voice to a whisper.

"I heard that Miss Steele." a deep voice roared through the walls.

I tried my best to ignore him since he was doing mighty fine job pretending I didn't exist.

"His heart must be struggling to survive being Mr Frosty in this blistering heat." I said rather loudly.

" _End of conversation, Miss Steele_." his voice grated.

Oh, I ignored that remark too and I continued to interview GT.

"Misunderstandings take place all the time, but this is deeper. I'm not going to let a small-minded bigot destroy my image of the author C Grey." he laughed at my weak analysis.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" he muttered, "Yet Miss Steele, you don't know the half of it," he added.

"I did graduate from Harvard, with a 4.0GPA."

His words groaned out, "Would you stop!"

"Of course you were _Beaten with Love_. You just didn't know how to accept the love you were given, and mistakenly ran in the process." The silence between us was loud as now I could hear the insects singing outside.

The skies rumbled in the distance, and a cool gush of air blew through his home. For the first time since arriving in Australia, I was embracing the cool weather, and grateful GT was snuggling me. Christian Grey should thank his lucky stars I wasn't writing the article this moment. I'm a genius with of unflattering comments. My career has made it an art form, making readers turn off celebrities with a single phrase. If he keeps pushing I wonder how big of an asshole I can make him.

 **…..**

 **I COULDN** **'T SLEEP** as the adrenaline persisted to pump through my veins. Fuck you, Mr Grey, getting me worked up. It doesn't help the change in the air caused everything to electrify as the sky rumbled in the distance. My bed, the dismal sofa was appalling. No matter how much I thumped it, the comfort never improved.

"He hates humans, doesn't he?" I said keeping my voice low. My only reply was a subtle snort and a twitch of her paw as GT slumbered.

"Not all." I jumped, surprised to see Christian up, "Just three in particular and one is dead," he confessed.

The man stood in his bedroom doorway again, filling it with his bulk, wearing a small pair of boxers covering his… modesty.

"Your mother? Father? So who's the third." I speculated.

 _Please, please, please don_ _'t Anastasia Steele._

"Did she tell you this, or is your Harvard intuition kicking in?" his brow furrowed.

"Neither," I shook my head, "Christian, I'm aware something has hurt you deeply. Your mother is very sorry about the whole ordeal."

"How can someone be so sorry while they allowed it to happen?"

"What exactly?" I stood up lowering my voice. My eyes remained on his as I patiently waited for an answer.

"She brought him to Dad's… funeral." His arms dropped, and eyes watered.

"Christian who did she bring? Tell me."

He was breaking at the seams as his grey eyes were shattering into fifty pieces. I was concerned with what happened all these years ago.

"I couldn't believe it, after everything I told her. Everything he had done. She still brought him." Christian paced the room obviously distressed by the whole memory.

"Who?"

"Jack!" he screamed.

I flinched at his aggression. Taking a deep breath, trying to remain calm, I step forward towards him, hoping he wouldn't shut down.

"Did Jack have an affair with your mother?" was the first thought which popped into my mind.

"No," he shook his head, "you have no idea." he laughed.

Walking closer to him hoping he would give me eye contacted, GT remained by my side, "Christian, you can tell me as Ana your friend, not the reporter."

He looked at me with crazy eyes, fighting an inner battle. It was apparent he was hurting and needed whatever it was out.

"Grace is sorry… Hang on," I dashed to my suitcase grabbing the hardcover encased with the handwritten note, "she gave me this… for you," with a shaky hand, I passed him the novel. "I promise I haven't read it, she was adamant you read this." and I pushed it further into his chest.

Christian brow furrowed as he stared at the book. He slowly opened the cover yanking his head back allowing a shaky breath to escape. Lowering his eyes to the page Mother Nature imitated the tears which ran down his face. A large rumble and in quick succession a flash of lightning brightened the room. While I distracted by the light Christian ran outside, dropping his book to the floor. GT waited for permission, as I gave her a nod of encouragement to follow her distressed master. Collecting the book I opened the handwritten message.

 _To my sweet baby,_

 _For years I was misguided by my friend. I can_ _'_ _t believe he was a friend. You weren_ _'_ _t the only one Christian, there were others, many others and Jack is gone for good. I took the word of a pedophile over my own child. I hate myself for it for many years._

 _I see you are doing well, and I am proud of you. So proud._

 _The past has been written but we have a blank page for the future, and as your mother, I will watch you write it. I will be waiting, loving you so much and forever._

 _Your apologetic mother,_

 _Grace Trevelyan Grey._

My hand flew to my mouth. I couldn't believe what I was reading. I shouldn't have, they weren't mine to read. _Shit_ , and I was pushing him for information. This was so much more than an affair. How could I be so stupid?

I placed the book on the kitchen table and walked outside, the smell of the rain was divine, as the cool air hitched in the back of my throat. The little light which was shining from the house focused on Christian.

He kneeled, rocking back and forth as the rains continued to fall from the heavens, the home of Tale's ancestors. I could only hope it was washing away the pain which Christian had held for years. The reporter in me wanted to document every moment, but the compassionate woman won over the self-centered idea.

Barefoot sinking into the soil, I ran to him. Wrapping my arms around the man, I hugged Christian as hard as I could trying to comfort his broken soul.

"Are you happy now?" he mumbled within my hold.

"No, not particularly. Come Christian, lets head inside. We're all wet." I felt a slight smile push into my neck, "Come on you lump," I giggled trying to break this deep moment, as I pulled apart my arms. For once I was thankful he listened, following me into his small home.

Entering his bedroom, he refused to let go of my hand, like a child seeking comfort from their mother. Searching his drawers I found a towel and dry clothes, pointing to the bed, he sat at the edge and I huddled behind. Rubbing the towel over his damp hair, eventually, he leaned into my hands grabbing them giving a single kiss on each.

" _O-kay_ , that's enough. Time to change mister." I patted the pile of clothes next to him. "I'll wait with GT."

It hit me like a tonne of bricks, _Grace Trevelyan-Grey_.

"G.T. are your mother's initials. See, you've always loved her," He looked back, with tears in his eyes, quickly wiping them with the towel. "Shut the door behind you _please_." I nodded as no words were needed as I clicked it shut.

 **…..**

 **I ADMIRED GT,** her breed stumped me but that made no difference to her trusting and very forgiving nature. As my ass found the floor by my makeshift, I encouraged GT to huddle in my lap. She skipped over and returned her love by licking my face.

"Easy girl, your tongue is like sandpaper," I giggled enjoying the affection.

He was stealthy, as I never noticed Christian entering the sitting room. With no warning, he lumped himself onto _my_ sofa.

"Hey! My bed!" disappointed by his choice as there were a plethora of seats he could have chosen. I groaned at the realization my bed was only becoming bearable and now I was back to square one. Ruined. "The equilibrium of cushion and lump was perfect, and you mess it up! _Gaaah!_ "

"Oh shut up. It's on death's doors. I can't believe you lasted the few hours you did."

" _Christian_ ," I pushed GT off and knelt in front of his lap. Soothing him by rubbing his knees, looking up at his face. "Talk to me," _Please_ , "What happened was real and you need to discuss this, or at least don't shut down."

He looked down at me, crinkling his worried brow, " I would be much more comfortable if you were not kneeling."

"Oh sorry," I stood and began pacing the room. "So… tell me," I panted, panicking not sure what to say.

"Sit," he patted the sofa, GT barking at his command, "sorry GT not you, rather this lady." he smiled.

 _By gosh, Christian Grey called me a lady._

"Anastasia," his head fell onto his lap.

"Ana," I said.

"Ana." He turned his head, and we smiled at each other.

"My life has been a challenge, ever since birth."

 _Holy shit, he_ _'_ _s opening up._

"My birth parents were less than desirable to reproduce, " he spoke to his open palms, and I moved closer, ensuring my voice remained low and calm.

"What happened to your birth parents?" I encouraged him to continue.

"My mother died of an overdose, and my father is missing. The PD assumed foul play relating to the case, no body was ever found."

"Christian these people don't define you." I tried to get up, but he held my hand refusing to let go. So I relaxed within his hold, and let him continue.

"I didn't know them. Grace and Carrick were wonderful parents. They adopted me, just like Amelia and Elliot. We were all difficult cases, me the most testing. I had been abused, neglected and forgotten."

"How could you be forgotten?" I honestly asked.

"I loved Grace and Carrick… Mom and Dad. They tried but never believed me. I was given opportunities most children could only ever dream of, but they felt the need to discipline me after I was caught skipping school. Possibly they felt that I was going down a similar path of my birth parents." Christian said, as tilted his head towards me.

"I was punished over summer when I was 14. Hard physical labor. Gardening, cleaning and slave work. His name…" Christian hesitated, blinking rapidly I guess to hold back the memories. " _Jack_. He had been a friend of my parents for many years. At the time, I didn't see anything wrong. He gave me the attention I was craving. _Ana_ …" he gripped my thigh, "you need to understand, I was a child, a hormone driven teenager, lost in the world where he only gave me attention."

"Don't stop," I placed my hand over his, hopeful he wouldn't.

"I flirted with him. The crazy thing is, I'm not gay, or even remotely bi-sexual. But he had an aura about him. Well spoken, feeding my ego. I thought I would just play, be that asshole kid, but it went further. Jack… _touched me_." He paused swallowing and regulating his breath, "At first I enjoyed it. It was our little secret, and he even started paying for _'_ _my efforts_ ,' as he called it. Within a few weeks, I was a few grand richer and slave labor for his playroom." I gripped his hand, willing him on.

 _Please keep going Christian._

"When he started to hurt me, refusing to listen to my cries of pain, I knew it had gone too far. I told my parents but they never listened, yet they continued to welcome him into our home." He said.

"You could have gone to the police."

"It was years ago Ana, and at the time I couldn't think beyond my own bubble. I was lost. When I moved to the other side of the country, I felt free. I was an adult and finally, I could do things for myself. Stability was the key, having a girlfriend."

" _Oh_."

Christian frowned looking at his lap again, "In the end, he followed me all the way to college, and I needed to escape. So I left."

"Christian did he…"He nodded.

"Yes, I can say it. He molested me for almost five years."

"Your past doesn't define you. You may have been dealt some shitty cards, but there is a whole deck waiting," I jumped into this lap hugging him. "There is nothing wrong with you. Understand this, you are perfect." And that very moment I believe every word I said. He was perfect, he needed to see it.

"But it hangs over me like a dark cloud."

"Christian," I nuzzled his neck. "Maybe it's time to do something about it. For the time being, I'm here and listening."

"Thank you." we pulled back and stared at each other. The storm was still in full force, and so were his eyes.

"Why are you standoffish to… women. I felt it when I arrived, and especially about your mother." I said.

"Women have been an issue for me. For years my mother was problem number one, and Leila wasn't much far behind. It was a huge lesson I lived through." he moved closer, brushing my shoulder, up my neck.

"I understand why you hated Grace, but who's Leila?" I pulled back, tilting my head like GT anther master. "Was she too much like your mother?" I chuckled.

"Don't even start," he mumbled shaking his head, suddenly stopping staring at my face.

"I think you have passed that bridge about 30 minutes ago. When we were in the rain." Before I could suck in my next breath, Christian's face was two inches away from my own.

We were practically nose-to-nose. If I could have backed away, I would have fallen to the floor, so I had no option but to stay on Christian's lap. GT was at his feet, barking madly and he ignored her, and I tried my best too but it was a challenge with two grey eyes locked on me.

"Fine," he released his standoff, pulling back. "She was my college girlfriend,"

"College? Ah, _the girlfriend_." I whined.

"Focus Miss Steele." he snapped, and I straightened. " _Was_ is the operative word. And I'm the one talking, so no interruptions." Christian tapped his finger on the tip of my nose, causing my cheeks to flush.

"Yes, Sir." I saluted, but his glare continued to stare.

I lowered my head, instantly he put his hand under my chin pushing it up, so we were looking at one another.

"Leila and I were together while I was studying. As most people in my life, I thought I knew her being my upmost everything. I _loved_ her."

"Let me guess, she—"

"No interruptions Ana!" he tapped my nose again, "I learned she favored sharing. So, in the end, she didn't care about me, it was a mirage, a show. When I needed her the most, she was off fucking the rest of the campus. So I had given up on my family, Leila… women… and especially Jack…" he sighed. "So there it is. I've been fucked over. Life has always fucked me over."

His distilled anger seemed to absorb all the oxygen in the room until the small hairs on the back of my neck began to bristle. He lifted me off with ease, as he left the room as if he couldn't get away from me quick enough.

The tension left my shoulders, and I realized I was trembling almost uncontrollably in the aftermath of this conversation. Despite everything, I had a soft heart, and I felt sorry for the man. Even the little details he provided about his parents and Leila. I had to believe it must have been traumatic for Christian, especially after the abuse from that pedophile.

"My boyfriend dumped me," I blurted probably a little too loud, causing GT to grunt and get up on all fours.

Christian halted at his doorway, "And I'm sure you got over it." He blunted replied.

I walked into his room, watching him sit with his back to me his cold tone sinking into my bones.

"Actually no, and I'm still far from being over it. I tried to pretend it was a natural parting of ways. It's always difficult removing the image of your roommate." I hissed through my teeth, "now ex-bestfriend's legs wrapped around his waist while he pounded her in the ass." I sat next to him, holding his hand, "I think the words she screamed were, ' _fuck me hard big boy like last night_.' So it wasn't a one night thing, rather a regular event." I said, "He married her six months later and of all things, I was the maid of honor. Fucked up, right?" I fell back on his bed, laughing at the events now, but it was horrible at the time.

He crawled on top of me, completely different compared to hours earlier. His hands pressed into the mattress causing depressions either side of my face, "Hey do you want a beer?" he brushed his nose with my own, and began to slow his speech, "They are tough to swallow and very cold." He winked.

"God yes please." I squeaked, quickly sitting up.

I think alcohol will be perfect easing the strain in the air. I don't care if it was dirty bath water, as long as it's cold, I'm sold.

 **…..**

 **HE RETURNED WITH TWO** small brown bottles, "Brace yourself, think worse than horrible."

"I'm expecting cold, so no fucks given." I shrugged.

He turned around and looked at me for an extra-long moment, frowning as if to gauge whether I was telling the truth. I held his gaze and didn't flinch before, I took my first mouthful of the alcohol.

" _Oh God_ ," I almost spat the beer all over him. It was disgusting, "What is this shit? _Ossie_ , home-brew?"

"Worse, XXXX." we laughed in unison. It was Tale's favorite brew. The only positive was the refreshing temperature and I quickly guzzled it down.

"I think that's why Australians call it piss." Christian cringed with every mouthful he drank.

"Oh, I second that. I'm sure urine tastes better than this, other than being warm."

Somehow our hands were locked together, his thumb stroked my skin sending shivers down my spine. I looked at the man next to me, and he was in a world of his own trying to drink that horrid ale.

"So, we've both been hurt in various ways, but it isn't the end of the world… well, it sort of is, because we are in the middle of nowhere." he snorted, as he drank another large mouthful of beer.

"It's the Outback, Kakadu territory," he said.

"Ok, do you need to correct me constantly?" and I followed suit, drinking again, "God this is rotten but so cold and refreshing." I rubbed the damp bottle over my face.

"Can we put this conversation behind us?" he asked.

"Sure."

I knew deep down I wanted to press deeper. So many questions had been left unanswered, but I was trying to build a relationship with the man if I were ever going to have an interview.

Our grip fell apart, and I felt a little upset that he was pulling away. Instead that very hand, he held out, and I grabbed it and shook it.

"Hi, I'm Christian Trevelyan-Grey,"

"And I'm Anastasia Steele." I smiled and he mirrored my expression, "So what does one do out in the Kakadu for entertainment?" I waved my hands around, hoping he doesn't say drink because I'm going to be drunk very quick.

"Reading, writing, and cards… well mostly online poker, if the satellite connection is strong."

"You got a deck?" I asked.

"Yeah sure." He quickly fetched his cards and two more beers.

As the dawn approached the rains were still falling, and I'm sure Christian snuck a few more beers into my system. I was feeling that drunk buzz and the brain to mouth filter disappears.

"Wanna play strip poker, playing for gumnuts and leaves is kind of a little boring."

He hooked a brow, and then his mouth fell flat. "Are you sure? When was the last time you slept?"

"God I don't know? I don't even know the time," and smart-ass Christian turned his head to his bedside table clock.

"4:47 AM"

" _JESUS!_ Maybe I should sleep, Tales will be picking me up sometime today."

"Don't be so sure of that," he stared out the window and the rain continued to fall.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Thank-you for all the support for this story! Keep it coming! I appreciate every single review, favourite and follow. See you in 12 hours or so :-)

 **BETA:** _Halo140_ and pusher _Stargazer93_

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

 **MY NAILS CLAWED** my pounding skull. The very scratching was splitting my head into a million pieces, I'm sure this was karma kicking my ass from the previous night's entertainment. Pinching my eyes to small slits, my long lashes did nothing to shade my sight. No matter how still I was, I felt the world of pain, the struggles of overindulgence. With one eye barely squinting, I found a familiar alarm clock, empty beer bottles, and individual playing cards. As I rolled over cursing myself for the movement I was surprised to find an unconscious Christian Grey.

Flipping back the crumpled sheet, a sigh of relief escaped as my clothing remained. I didn't hesitate to check the other occupant of the bed. Clothed. If boxers count as clothing. He was on his stomach with a single leg hanging over the edge of the bed as his other leg was hooked at an angle. Those black boxers nestled in the crack of his ass, giving his left cheek a bare show.

 _'How is this my life?'_ I mumbled to myself, falling into the pillows, bunching the sheet under my chin. _"This is not real!"_

Unsure of the extent of last night shenanigans, there were gumnuts rolling on the mattress and leaves stuck in my hair. None of these bizarre things add up, or remotely relieve my hazy memory. Usually, my only cure for a deadly hangover would be an AA-Bomb, but I doubt Christian stocks chia seeds, Greek yogurt or kale. So no smoothie this morning, my option is freshly brewed tea.

Sliding to the edge of the bed, every movement caused the springs to squeaked. Thankfully when I was on solid ground, the sleeping giant remained still.

In the kitchen, I put water on the stove to boil as Christian had done for me last night. Now, if I only knew what the hell happened.

Oh dear lord! _Poker._

" _Well if you_ _'_ _re going to play for strips, we should stay on the bed," Christian patted the mattress, then whipping his hand up to the heavens for a democratic vote._

 _How could I deny the man, and my own hand followed his._

 _"Sure," I stated, as he counted the two votes._

 _What did I have to lose?_

 _"Yassss!" he hissed as his musky drunken breath blew in my direction._

 _Christian's brows knitted together and forehead creased, as he shuffled the deck. His attentiveness rivaled top heart surgeons. Unlike cardiologists they didn't slip, releasing their vital instruments. In this , he stumbled dropping cards everywhere. Even though we are both intoxicated, I was grateful we would spend the night together. Thank you destiny. Of course for research purposes, well that's what I keep reminding myself._

 _Restocking our provisions for the rest of the night. The copious liters of alcohol and anything resembling carbohydrates sat near his alarm clock._

 _I had a sneaky suspicion Christian helped himself dealing with a cheating hand. My cards were mediocre at best. No matter how much re-arranging I needed a strategy. Fortunately, the first game was on my side, as well as luck. I won by a slim margin in a full house. Face cards were my only advantage in this round._

 _"I thought you said you were shit at poker?" Christian said._

 _"Did I?" I laughed, but eager for the next step gesturing to his neck to navel, "Now lose the shirt mister,_ _"_ _I blew a kiss, boasting something chronic._

 _He was correct. I usually am terrible at poker, but I didn't need to give way too much. We must remember a poker face, wins all._

 _Sipping his beer, Christian tried to hide his smile, as I ogled his naked chest and quickly hiding behind my handful of cards._

 _"My turn to deal Mr Grey," I fluttered my lashes, as he pushed the remaining deck in my direction._

 _Shuffling the cards, I glanced up and smiled. His grey eyes were reflecting over my blue. Despite his rough exterior, I found his dominating presence appealing. If he were cleanly shaven and a new hairstyle, perhaps I could consider him handsome. Ok who was I trying to fool, the man was absolutely gorgeous._

 _I must have been staring for quite some time because his smile disappeared, "What?" I squeaked._

 _"Nothing." he crossed his arms, tapping his index finger on his bicep._

 _Shit, Shit, Shit._

 _Deal the damn cards, Ana!_

" _You were staring Ana._ _"_ _his voice sang._

" _I know._ _"_ _I weakly replied as I dealt the cards in record time._

" _May I ask why?_ _"_

 _He had to press, and it was a difficult question to answer. I couldn't admit I find him intriguing, and drool at his underlying features like those rippling abs. So I said the first thing which escaped my mouth filter._

" _I'm committing you to memory_ _…_ _Damn those abs, I doubt you'll let me take a photo._ _" I groaned._

 _He immediately frowned,_ _"_ _My abs? Is this relating to your article you are persisting to write?_ _"_

 _Biting my lip, I refused to answer. Instead, I double and triple checked my hand, while I waited for his first move._

 _Luck didn_ _'_ _t play through and the second game proved a win for Christian. Bastard. So for his convenience, I lost my shirt too. Thank God I decided to wear a bra._

" _Tie-breaker?"_ _he suggested._

" _Of course._ _"_ _I nodded._

 _After shuffling the deck, with more grace this time, his strong hands dealt us five cards each._

" _Do you do anything special around here for Christmas?_ _"_ _I asked, cupping my cards close to my face._

 _Frowning again, he glanced at me above his hand of cards._ _"_ _We're in the Southern Hemisphere Miss Steele, of course, they do things differently. Why... what's brewing in that little head of yours?" he said while arranging his cards._

" _It's on my mind since there was a dusting of snow in Seattle as I left. Stores are lining their windows and walls with Christmas cheer and the carols are in an endless loop._ _"_ _smiling at the thought of holiday music._

" _America is a festive nation,_ _"_ _he stated,_ _"_ _I suppose you go all out for the holidays?_ _"_

" _Of course._ _"_ _I silently prayed to the Gods because this hand was utter garbage, and I needed to win. I wanted to see Christian_ _'_ _s boxers on the floor._ _"_ _I live alone, and my apartment looks like a Christmas store on crack! What about you?_ _"_

 _He finished placing his royal flush down on his patchwork blanket. Cringing, as I knew there was no way I could defeat that winning hand._

 _What was he going to ask me to remove?_

 _He seemed surprised, "If you_ _'_ _re digging for information, you can stop now._ _"_

" _I wasn_ _'_ _t, I swear." holding my hands up in defeat._

 _For once I wasn't digging for information. I love Christian_ _…_ _I mean I love Christmas. Oh God, I need more beer._

 _"Remember I'm Ana right now, not reporter Steele, for Seattle Daily._ _"_ _grinning while I gave the Girl Scout salute. Why is everything I asked seem suspicious?_ _"_ _Your home is a little bare. For starters, you don't have a tree, only one decoration, if you count that crystal snowflake._ _"_ _I flicked my head towards the direction of the sitting room._

" _Ana, you_ _'_ _re pushing again. In all seriousness, I live in Kakadu country. It_ _'_ _s a little hard finding suitable pine to vomit Christmas cheer._ _"_

 _Knowing the ass, his middle name is probably Scrooge and Christmas gives him palpitations._

" _You don_ _'_ _t give a rats ass, do you?_ _"_ _crossing my arms pissed at the man._

" _Who doesn_ _'_ _t love Christmas?_ _"_ _he winked._

" _You don't for starters_ _…_ _Scrooge._ _" I blurted._

" _Right! I see you have me all wrong, it's a great time of year. Sometimes I join Tales in Katherine or spend a few weeks with friends in Darwin. It's not all sad Miss Steele._ _"_

 _It made me feel better knowing he wouldn_ _'_ _t be alone, but why would he stay out here in remoteness._

" _Good._ _"_ _I nodded._

" _Good?"_ _he repeated._

" _Yes. I would hate the thought of you spending Christmas alone. Out here is quite hot and isolating._ _"_

 _He grinned as if my comment amused him._ _"_ _Despite what you think, I enjoy my own company, but I have a real life too. I live a good part of the time here, and the rest further north in my apartment."_

" _You do?" shocked by his confession, "But how do you support yourself? I mean_ _…_ _well, before your writing._ _"_

" _I have all the work I want online, well away from face-to-face contact._ _"_ _Christian grimaced as if he_ _'_ _d said far more than he wanted._ _"_ _Forget I said that, imagine I'm a plumber or handy guy of sorts._ _"_ _Christian wiggled his hands in front of my face, hoping I would ignore his admission._

 _With a change in the air and rumbles of thunder in the distance, his hands cupped my cheeks. All my playfulness escaped, not wanting to breathe in case I missed something crucial._

" _Hey," he released my cheeks, and our moment was severed, "now let me see those cards._ _"_ _Christian panted._

 _I placed all five cards down on the mattress,_ _"_ _Just as I thought, take it off_ _… missy,"_ _he winked._

 _Bastard._

" _What exactly?_ _"_ _I stated, looking down at my bra, and the oversized boxers._

 _His two words were all it took to make me melt,_ _"_ _It all._ _"_

The water bubbled out of the pot, hissing on the hot plate as it woke me from my faint memory.

" _Shit!_ " I jeered, quickly removing it.

Once I found a clean mug, I attempted my morning routine. The perfect brew.

"Are you alright Ana, you kind of zoned out for a bit there?" a deep husky voice called in the kitchen.

"Jesus Christ!"

My hand rested on my thumping heart as it tried escaping my rib cage. I was thankful I wasn't holding the mug at this point as it would be all over myself and the floor. I couldn't comprehend exactly what was taking place as I stared at Christian.

"You're dressed?" my voice faltered, studying that he's no longer in underwear, rather clothes of a man on a mission to head outdoors.

"Of course, it's close to midday. Is there a particular reason why your mouth is this wide open?" his palm flexed demonstrating my mouth, "You'll choke on a fly if you're not careful." He smiled and I instantly clamped my mouth shut.

I looked at the cup, slapping my forehead as I quickly made him a cup too. How rude, I helped myself and didn't think to make him one.

"Ana, it's fine. I don't want tea," he said.

I was on automatic, I was at a lost with what took place last night. Poker... strip poker… which led to removing _it all_.

"Did we have sex last night?" I blurted out and in no time my face was straight into my mug sculling the scalding tea.

"I don't think so," he scratched his head, moving his hands down the scruff on his face, "Why would you get that impression?" but there was a small smirk on his face.

"Well because I… a…" I was at a disadvantage, he remembered and I had alcohol-induced amnesia.

"You passed out and looked very comfortable in my bed. So I didn't have the heart to move you." _Well, that was a relief_ , "Ana I solemnly swear I did not have sex with you." If he was trying to convince me smirking wasn't helping.

Why is this affecting me? Why am I making such a big deal over it? _Jesus Ana,_ get a fucking grip. You know the rule, don't fuck the headline and you didn't. Great work, your vagina isn't tainted.

"No, I believe you." My reply was weak.

We must have kissed, but there is this added tension which wasn't there before.

"Earth to Ana?" a click of his fingers woke me from my downward spiral of my ridiculous hungover thought.

"Ah.. yeah." and I quickly gulped more tea.

"So, do you want the good news?" he smiled.

"There's news… and only good?" I had to admitted I was confused.

"The rains have stopped and Tales is making his way through sometime tomorrow morning." I sank. He was wanting me gone, but I don't think I was ready to leave.

" _Oh._ " I sighed.

"Hey, this is good news. I can get back to my writing and you can get back to your work in Seattle."

Sipping on my hot brew, it had been playing on my mind. "Do you have a working phone by any chance? Mine has zero coverage."

"Yeah of course," he stretched and his tank top lifted so I could catch that snail trail below his navel.

I gulped at my imagination of what possibly lived below those hairs, sweet baby Jesus. I need more tea.

"Ana," he asked, where I could only manage a weak nod. "you might want to wipe your face, you're drooling." My hand touched my face, rubbing at the skin only to find it was dry.

 _Bastard._

" _Well_ _…_ " He fucking knew I was watching him, "My mother is probably worried about me," I said, "I told her I'd phone, and I haven't." It had been close to two days since she's heard from me. The police report is probably filed in triplicate.

"Satellite is the only option, and _it isn_ _'_ _t cheap_." He raised his voice and tapped his fingers on the wall.

"Christian," I placed a hand on my hip, "you've sold over 1 million books I doubt money is an issue."

"It's _very_ expensive." his stare bored into my eyes.

"Fine, whatever," I waved my hands over my face, "I'll pay the charges owed, I won't blabber and keep it short."

"Better." he smiled, which lit up his whole face, "Having you out of my hair by morning would be payment enough."

 _Asshole. Bastard. Prick._

My face lowered, how can he be so hot and cold. All these emotions are causing me whiplash. "Ouch. I thought we were getting along, _friend_." And I believed we turned a new leaf last night, from what I could remember.

Christian walked over to me, scuffing my hair, laughing the word, " _Friends._ " And left with a wink.

What the hell? Nope, he is too much effort.

Christian showed me how to operate the phone at his desk. It took a moment for the line to connect, and when it did, Momma answered.

"It's me, Ana. I don't have a lot of time." Mom called out to Dad, ' _it's our Annie on the phone'_ , but I didn't have time to stop, I was on very expensive satellite rates. "Mom I'm in Australia."

"Austria?"

"Mom, Aust-ral-ia."

"Sorry dear the line is a little fuzzy, oh your father and I have been concerned. I was minutes away from contacting the police." I bit the inside of my cheek, knowing my mother too well.

"I know, Mom. I'll explain everything when I'm home." I turned to see Christian playing with GT on the floor, and I couldn't take my eyes off them.

"Where in Australia?"

"Outside Katherine, it's up in northern Australia." If I said anything more, I would have more questions, and then more after that.

"You found the author?" Her voice began to rise in pitch and I knew if I didn't rein in the conversation it was going to cost me my livelihood.

"Mom, I need to go."

"Okay, okay, but I'm going to want a full report when you're back. Do you think you could manage an autograph for your mother?"

"Autograph?" the sound of Christian laughter broke my concentration, "Hey I'm not sure, the author is a bit of an asshole." Seeing Christians smile turn into a pouty frown was not what I was expecting. "Anyways tell Dad he should have taught me better at poker."

"What?"

"Never mind, I've really got to go Mom."

Ending the call I returned Christian's phone to the desk. When I turned around, both Christian and GT were standing at the screen door.

"You're leaving?" I squeaked. It was his backpack and hat which gave it away.

"I need to check if the roads are safe for Tales." his enthusiasm to leave isn't thrilling, "I won't be gone long."

At the door, Christian hesitated. "You'll be all right for a while?"

Surprised by his concern, I couldn't speak, only smile. We held our stare like we both wanted to say something further, but silence was our answer and he went on his merry way with GT by his side.

 **…..**

 **THIS SECLUSION WAS** a blessing in disguise as it gave me time to tackle the article. The instant Christian and GT were out the door, I furrowed for my laptop. Even though the night before was sketchy it didn't take long to arrange my hazy thoughts. My research had given enough research, for a compelling piece about the mysterious best selling author Christian Grey.

Unsure of the time frame I had, my fingers rushed over the keys, working through a meaningful draft. Seeing the words on the screen gave me a sense of achievement after this whirlwind adventure.

The feature was fair. Currently far from flattering, but these things happen if the central figure was a giving me the cues as an A grade asshole.

Time disappeared quickly, and since I didn't know the timeline I had, I tucked my laptop back into my suitcase.

With the article out of sight, I was instantly bored. The idea of having Wifi or a television was high on the agenda. His bursting bookshelves were my only place for pleasure. The titles were all bestsellers, and I was flabbergasted seeing Fifty Shades of Grey among them.

Opening the hardback, I was pleasantly surprised to see a handwritten message from the author EL James. Sliding it back on the shelf, I check another and another… all signed, all with personalized messages.

 _What the hell? Does he know every best selling author?_

I had little interest in those novels, and my brilliant idea emerged. Involving my notepad and makeup bag. I selected a few items, my nail scissors, iridescent eye-shadows, and creamy highlighters. Once my idea was designed, cut and added with a shimmery shine, I still needed something to hang them on. The kitchen seemed fruitful in my finds with twine and clothes pegs.

Standing barefoot, still in last night's sleepwear I tied the twine around his home. This was mostly above my height near the uneven ceilings, dilapidated window frames, and decrepit doorways.

Giving myself a complimentary pat on the back, I had my doubts, but I believe I pulled it off.

"Now that's more like it. Anastasia bringing a Winter Christmas to the Kakadu."

The doubt never left my mind, as Christian won't appreciate my efforts of snowflakes; yet, I wasn't going to let his sour attitude stop my Christmas cheer.

Fixing the final placements, I stood on my tippy toes near the front of the sitting room. Stretching my arms above my head, I struggled to reach the perfect spot.

A howl in the distance alerted me they were back. Finishing the final snowflake, a large bark startled me. Trying to gain my balance on the rickety chair, there was nothing to grab ahold of. It was hearing my name from Christian's booming voice, knowing that I was done for. He raced to me as I was toppling from the perch of his chair. I felt gravity take hold.

 _Holy shit!_

Two large hands caught my fall as I landed with a masculine thud beneath me.

My hair was tangled over my face, and as I pulled back my curls, there below me was a grimacing Christian. Our bodies were pressed hard against each other. For a wild moment, all we did was stare at each other.

My pulse flourished, as I only managed a wheezy gasp of excitement. Christian's eyes darted either side of my throat, and I grew stiff. Instantly he sensed my reaction, wrapping his arms around me further, refusing for any release.

His gaze continued to travel from the throbbing pulse in my neck to my lips. My mouth parted slowly closing my eyes, releasing a heavy breath I waited for a hope that his lips will touch mine.

 _Nothing._

"Ana—" hearing my name my face dropped into his chest embarrassed that I read him all wrong. Christian squirmed beneath me, and I didn't read him wrong after all as his length pushed into my belly.

 _Well, why in hell wasn't he pursuing it?_

Christian coughed, "Miss Steele were you trying to organize a death wish standing on those chairs, or just my own?" he panted, while pointing at the upturned chair, now a tripod, with a broken leg on the floor.

As Christian released me, we both scurried apart.

"What have you done?" he wailed. I would have hoped he admired my efforts, rather demanding an explanation.

"What?" crossing my arms in defiance, I wasn't sure why he was upset, they were paper snowflakes covered in shimmery makeup, not a house restoration.

" _This!_ " he pointed at the ceiling.

"Oh, yeah. That," I shrugged, continuing to mimic his pointing gesture. "I thought you needed a little holiday spirit in this stifling place."

The frown blasted on his face wasn't what I was expecting. Were my thrifty efforts truly in the line of disappointment and angry behavior. Was it that bad?

"Ok, Mr Grey, you're already making me second guess my snowflake abilities. Please, don't look at me in that way, I can feel the lasers burning my corneas. If me a second and I'll take them down."

His retort was rigid, "Risking you breaking your neck for the second time, not on my watch. I was going to suggest..." he turned to his shelves. I knew exactly what he was trying to find. His crystal snowflake. "Where is it?" The panic was in his voice bellowed.

I nodded towards the window, and all we needed to do was wait for the afternoon sun to reflect light through it.

"How did you do this all?" he looked at his wrist, "In an hour?"

"Actually it was close to four," I firmed stated.

"You kept a tab on me."

"Well, of course, I was…"

"Alone?"

"Yes, but it was more defined as boredom." I spun around the room, proud of my handy work, "It reminds me of your mother's place, she's obsessed with snowflakes." I pressed.

Christian's lips remained closed, shutting his eyes.

"I'll make us something for dinner." he changed the subject.

"Vegemite?" I snorted.

"No, damper, meat pies, some peas and…" he walked into the kitchen and the reminiscing sound of clinking bottles filled my ears, "beer. I have a stash of red wine, I'm hoping the heat hasn't turned it into vinegar."

The hot sun lowered on the horizon, sweat ran down my spine as flies tickled my skin. As the daylight hours disappeared we both continued to comply a makeshift meal together.

Christian removed a tattered book from his shelves and showed me the recipe. My hands pressed into a prayer position, thanking the Gods. It was simple. In the past, I've always had difficulties when it came to mixing more than water to a meal. Christian retrieved frozen goods from his deep freezer I had never noticed before.

It was strange, us both domesticated in a kitchen with no arguments or emotional whiplash. Our previous sensual awkwardness was under the bridge, pretending was the key. I was more eager as I'd practically begged the guy to kiss me.

As our meal cooked, the scent of beef and biscuits filled his home. With one chair down, we resorted to eating on the coffee table and sitting on the floor. It was perfect as the room was painted with rainbows of light by his crystal snowflake.

"Wine?" he asked, pointing the bottle to me as I read the label. _Penfold's Grange_.

"You've been holding out. Yes fucking please." I licked my lips, dying to drink something which didn't resemble the taste of urine.

He set the wine bottle in the middle of the table. "Fingers crossed it's not vinegar," which I did as he asked crossing my legs for good measure, "because it's an expensive drop." And that it was, these bottles retailed over $600 a pop depending on the vintage.

"Are we celebrating?" I asked carefree as a Christmas carol hummed on my lips.

"Yes. Tales will collect you come morning."

My heart sank, trying my best not to look disappointed, "Of course. How could I forget?" I whispered.

I pushed my meal around with a fork, unable to eat any further. A pie consisting of meat filling, ketchup on the side, disguising mushy peas, and damper. I'm assuming Australia's sad excuse for a biscuit. Was this what my life had come to? An interesting concoction, barely palatable.

Christian unscrewed the cork letting the wine breathe. His nostrils flared engulfing the aromas. A simple twist to his wrist he began pouring the ruby liquid into our glasses.

"A toast?" he announced as he curled the lip of the bottle. His long finger wiped the remnants and sucked it dry releasing his finger with a pop.

"And what exactly are we toasting?" I asked, pressing the brim of our glasses together.

"To isolation and strip poker," he suggested. "rematch Ana?" His brows rose.

"Oh God, _the strip poker,_ " I groaned as my face fell into my hands.

How did I forget? As I raised my head Christian was smiling and I couldn't help but do the same.

Our stare held for a deep moment. This was the heightening awareness I tried to deny all afternoon, it was far from being eradicated by common sense. It was blooming in my mind and chest.

I needed wine, even though it was hazing my clear thoughts. The purpose of being here is being compromised. You are here for the interview and bettering your career. Do not get all doe eyes for the headline.

 _Do not fuck him. Use that head correctly, not your vagina!_

I guzzled more wine, contemplating, I had what I needed. The article was close to completion, and once the article was in Lincoln's hands, Christian Grey would be nothing more than words on a page.

 _Shit._

"I need a distraction, or I'm going to embarrass myself if I keep drinking at this pace," I said.

"Please don't stop for my own benefit." he pouted and began sipping his own glass.

"Poker?" I suggested.

"Strip?" Christian winked.

"Fine!" I flicked my head back in defeat knowing this is going to end badly.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:** Thank-you for all the support for this story! Keep it coming!

Will Ana publish the interview?

Will there be some kind of sexual release for these two? ;-)

Read away and tell me what you think. I appreciate the reviews, favourites, follows and the PMs.

*If you want become a friend on fb (details and links on my profile page), or read one of my other stories. Need a Christmas/New Year feel give "Discoveries," or "She Glitters, I Sparkle," a go. Want something naughty smut, try "Judge of Character," or "Working Hard."

I maybe a little late for the next chapter, I'm going out tonight, so it maybe a little more than 12 hours, until then laters :-)

 **BETA:** _Halo140_ and pusher _Stargazer93_

* * *

 **CHAPTER SIX**

 **I WAS CURSING MYSELF** as more I consumed, the more Christian became more beautiful. He was a perfect specimen of the male species even if he was a bit of a dirty nomad at times.

As the stars made their way into the night's sky, we stumbled into his bedroom. Landing awkwardly on his oversized bed, perfect for a messy card game and to lounge together.

"Are you surprised by your success?" I'd asked him, rolling around on his mattress, amazed by the comfort. _Where does one buy a bed out here?_ Christian nodded as he began to open his mouth, and it fell shut again.

" _Ohhh God, you_ _'_ _re soooo frussstrating,_ " I thumped a pillow as my speech slurred. "Just tell me what you're thinking."

He stilled for a moment, drinking from a small brown bottle while eyeing me carefully. "I want to..." he grew close staring at my face, my lips in particular hesitating at the moment and eventually shaking off his silent thought. "My editor has briefed I'm a publishing sensation." he grinned, patting his chest full of pride.

" _Fuck yeah!_ " I mumbled.

I covered my mouth, this was a usual situation when copious amounts of alcohol were being consumed. I quickly mouthed ' _sorry_ ' hiccuping in the process.

"It's thousands and thousands of people reading your—"

"Over a combined million," he tilted his head up, and that grin was still plastered on his face.

"And you are," pushing his chest, he fell back laughing, "bragging Mr Grey," I hooked a brow, leaning on my side, fiddling with the deck of cards.

We both held our stare, he gazed at my lips for a little too long. It was difficult to concentrate when he was lying next to me. Shaking my head, remember Ana do not fuck the headline.

He smiled and leaned back, far more comfortable with me than he should have been. Our eyes brightened and Christian couldn't look away.

"Did you know…" I said, my smile warm and alive, "there are many groups popping up online which you have inspired. More about writing, reviewing, and even fanfiction. You are getting a whole new world of people writing and reading who never had before."

Christian looked down the neck of his empty bottle, and his mute persona returned.

"Well don't clam up now. Dinner was amusing, even though I would need to disagree having meat in a pie, but that's a whole other conversation." he cracked out in laughter, "We are being civil, which is a great change, I was getting used to you being an asshole, but I love this better." I smiled and butterflies ruffled in my stomach.

He hooked his brow, "This..." I waved my hand between us, "is nice." And Christian smiled, "I like you, Christian," I confessed, on the man's bed.

 _Don_ _'_ _t regret your words, please don_ _'_ _t regret your words._

" _What?_ " he arched one thick brow as though questioning me.

"With few exceptions, I've enjoyed my time with you."

"Really?" my declaration amused him.

He laid back on the bed, his arms by his side, staring at the ceiling, and then back to me. I'm sure he's expecting me to elaborate.

I crawled on top of him, and he didn't resist my endeavor, before answering, "I'm not going to feed your ego, Mr Grey."

" _Oh_ _…_ _come on_. Why not?" he whined.

I couldn't hold back, it was now or never, "Okay ready for the ego trip," I said.

He put out his hand motioning me to continue, "You are who you are and you aren't willing to apologize for it. I like that." I was actually attracted to the fact that Christian was my type, but damn if I was going to admit it out loud.

"I had a 4.0 GPA before I quit college," he said.

I laughed at how random it was, "yet so humble Mr Grey."

"Touché." he chuckled and then asked, "What about good-looking?" his hands went around my waist.

"I don't feel qualified to answer that," I barely got the words out as my breath left me. His touch sent lightning up my spine, as I cocked my head to the side as I began assessing his looks.

"Why not?" he challenged and bucked into my core.

It was a knee-jerk reaction as my hip ground into his waist. Visually my cheeks must have been burning, but I wasn't the only one affected by our actions. Leaning forward, I felt his length harden under his clothing.

" _It_ _'s hard…_ " I coughed, "I mean... your face is covered," my fingers brushed over his stubble, "with scruff."

"True, besides Ana, razors are hard to come by when you're in the Outback."

Our conversation continued innocently grinding into each other's crotch. The more I got to know him, the stronger my feelings became. Before long, two empty bottles of red were sitting next to his alarm clock and the poker game was well forgotten.

" _Ana_ ," he whispered, his teeth grazing over my neck as we rolled apart.

His room is dark, only lit by the glow of a small desk lamp. "Christian…" I panted as goosebumps coarse my flesh.

"Quiet Miss Steele," his voice hummed over my throat, "I've wanted you… _all night_." He lies me flat on my back, brushing his hand under my shirt. My nipples instantly form small peaks. "You confuse me, make me want things," he said as his groin pressed between my thighs.

I flush, more embarrassed and wet by the second. Before I know what's happening, he shimmies my shirt off, pulling the straps of my black bra down my shoulders.

Sitting back he looked at me, "You're such a fine beauty." He groaned as his mouth hovered over my bra, occasionally nipping at my breast.

"And you're drunk... we're drunk." I moan between the pleasure he was giving. I knew this was morally wrong. I had an interview to publish, and I couldn't, I shouldn't fuck the guy.

"Does it matter?" And his three words made me to mush.

My legs start shaking. I know he can feel it because his free hand pushes them apart a second later, giving him ample space to move in for the kill. Christian's fingers hook the cup of my bra, tugging it down popping my breasts out of their cage. Bringing his face to my pink flesh, his mouth engulfed my rock hard nipple. It was all tongue and warm breaths teasing my peaks as his hand gripped my flowing hair, catalyzing my inevitable whimper.

"Christian..." his name barely audible, but I wanted him.

No man has ever treated me like this and the arousal is real. It's brutal pretending I'm not, even as everything in the back of my head screams _don't fuck the headline._

"We...we shouldn't. The. Interview. Christian..." I pant out these life-changing words. I needed to think about my career, not my vagina and most definitely not the man who was undoing me.

"I think our professionalism has flown out the window, Miss Steele." He words were low and deep.

"Stop. Calling. Me. Miss Steele." I continued to pant.

Instantly Christian spread my mouth open, pushing his tongue against mine, sucking and consuming the life from me.

It was a carnal desire, as we tore our remaining clothes off as if it were our last night on this earth. His fingers trail my back, scratching my damp skin all the way to cup my ass cheeks.

I want this man to overrule me, dominate like the heroes in his novels.

Growling like a beast, his hand circle to my front, caressing my thigh, inching ever so close to my core. The slight tug of my pubic hair caught me by surprise, as he nibbled my ear. "I love this, it gives me something to pull." I tugged again, making me wince with pleasure, "you're a real woman Ana."

Whimpering, needing him inside of me, I clench his length in my hand, his yelp of approval was all I needed to hear. "And my God, you're most definitely a real man."

" _Jesus Ana_ , I need to be inside of you," his knee push my thighs further apart.

I hear him inhale, and thrust himself inside me. My eyelids flutter, as he finds our rhythm, combining a swirl to our hips and kiss of our lips. Our primal urge to speed up, rock our cores, in and out. I shake uncontrollably as a fireball swells within.

I'm melting down from the inside out. "Christian, I'm—" My body finishes my words for me.

Seconds later I'm coming so fucking hard I can only pant my actions. Christian pushes his face deeper into mine, feeling the extent of his length pulsing from tip to the very root. My fingers curl into his back, as his thrusts don't ease.

Looking into our eyes I'm struck with the man on top of me. First, by his grey eyes, it's not lusting as I thought, it's hunger and something much deeper. My legs clench around him, tighter and tighter. Our passion is fast and hard as the bed rocks and creaks to the movement of our passion. His cock is like a piston, the swollen tip reaches up, hitting where I love it the most, sending me over the horizon well into the home of the cosmos.

"Again Ana. Fucking come with me," I want to hold onto this, but my body betrays me, coiling around him, fusing my pleasure around his cock.

For the next few binding minutes, pleasure rips through me, as I scream his name too many times to count. Christian growls louder, and snarl his pleasure, as I feel him explode within me.

"Jesus Ana," his growl becomes a roar, drowning out my own cries of pleasure. He floods me and then some.

Staring at one another, catching our breaths, I have never experienced sex like that before. Post bliss he scoops me from behind stroking down the side of my body.

He whispers, "Ana I don't want you to leave."

Through sheer exhaustion from our fun, I close my eyes for just a moment.

 **...**

 **I OPENED AN EYE,** everything ached for the better from my waist down, and I was glad to see the gorgeous man who had fucked me sideways, studying me.

"You talk in your sleep." he mentioned, which I'm sure are lies.

Knowing the effects of the alcohol wearing off, I was feeling exposed. I stretched my arms above me and grabbed the sheet to cover my very naked body.

"Don't get shy on me now," Christian said as he tugged the sheet down, leaning over to kiss me on the lips.

Was this only a distraction for the inevitable, knowing Tales will be collecting me in the morning?

"I have something to show you," he asked, leaving his bedroom completely naked.

Not giving me a chance to answer this question, all I could do was follow. Of course, wrapped with his sheet still for my modesty, I guess something he now lacked.

We walked outside, " _Sit,_ " he suggested and I obliged, "Why don't we rest for a few minutes," he murmured in my ear.

Christian knelt behind me, rubbing my shoulders sending shivers down my spine. His touch was addictive not only for my core but my soul. I closed my eyes and with a sigh I let my head fall back onto him. His breath blew behind my neck as his lips peppered my skin.

The night was peaceful in contrast from the previous night. The storm was over, and it was relatively peaceful. My eyes tilted upwards to the star-filled heavens. In all my life, I've never seen so many stars. Thousands upon thousands of pinpricks of luminous twinkling lights, dotting the black sky.

"Oh, it's beautiful," I whispered, caught up in the magic of the moment. "This is surreal, during the day I see rainbows and at night a mesmerizing show."

Christian lowered the sheet, so we were skin to skin, "I'll never grow tired of this view," he whispered as his finger outlined my breast, areola, then the nipple. "It's incredible. Breathtaking." he moaned into my skin as he kissed my neck.

"Close your eyes." I did as he requested.

He spun me around, into a full embrace. I needed to pull back and let reality hit, but I couldn't, I wanted him as much as he wanted me.

"Stay," he spoke on my lips.

Our close proximity webbed us as one. I knew what I needed to say. One word.

" _No._ "

His breath hitched as if this wasn't the answer he was expecting. But he must have known it was my only option.

"You wound me, Miss Steele. I better make the most of tonight." he looked up at the night sky, "I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful."

"Me either," and I grabbed his face kissing him.

My mind swirled, inhaling a deep breath, I glanced to find Christian studying me. I couldn't speak even though I wanted to say an endless amount. I wanted to thank him, sharing his home, and opening up to me. They were on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't murmur a single word without tears falling.

"I need to take you again."

"But we're outside—" were the only words I managed before his lips were on mine again.

I was lying back on his sheet staring at the sky of sparkling diamonds as well as the man I was surrendering to.

" _Please,_ " he begged.

His expression panged me, as I was becoming one of those women. He was opening up to me, sharing his soul and I was only breaking it into a thousand pieces, once again. I knew when it came to the morning I wouldn't know how to say goodbye to him, perhaps that was for the best, as leaving was the only option. An immediate sense of regret filled my chest. In such a short amount of time, Australia had won me over, as well as the mysterious author called C Grey.

"Of course," I kissed him.

And for the few hours we had, we made love under our own snowflakes of light, the cosmos.

 **...**

" **ALL READY?** **"** a weary voice said to me.

A horn blared in the distance. I wasn't eager to leave but knowing I must. I had my life back in Seattle, and my new awaiting career thanks to this man.

"That must be Tales," Christian said.

I nodded, "Or one very disgruntle beast," we both chuckled.

I dragged my suitcase behind me, giving a quick check of his home to be sure I left nothing behind, other than the one thing I truly wanted. _Christian_.

Goodbyes hurt, and this was salt in the wound. These last few moments we kept our distance and surprising it hurt. GT licked me alive, not wanting to leave my side. The three of us walked to Tale's truck.

"This was my first trip to Australia, I'm glad I spent it with you," I said, more to fill the silence than to make conversation.

His mute facade was back and he reached for my suitcase carrying it to Tale's truck. I followed, with a lump in my throat and tears threatening to fall. I shouldn't get emotional over this farewell, it was embarrassing and utterly ridiculous. I barely knew this man, other than that he was an exceptional lover.

Christian had the passenger door open and my suitcase stored inside. He exchanged a few short words with Tales, but I couldn't hear what he said over the roar of the engine.

I made sure I had a smile in place when he turned to face me. I hadn't thought what my last words to him would be, and I said what came instinctively. "Thank you for everything."

Christian looked down at me, his stormy eyes as intense as ever. I wanted to tell him without words how much the last two days had meant to me, and how impressed I was with the man he was. I longed to thank him for opening my eyes to what it was to be with a man who had been destroyed by his past only to rebuild it for the better.

He pulled me close and as if he couldn't help himself he lowered his mouth to mine.

I gave a small cry of appreciation and gratitude as I clung to him. This was exactly what I wanted, what I'd hoped would happen. And his kiss was everything plus more, a million more stars and snowflakes combined. I locked my arms around his neck kissing him back, wanting to return everything that he had given me.

 _Love._

After a long moment, we released for air, but he still hugged me close and tight against him.

"Goodbye, Christian," I whispered close to his ear.

He kissed my neck and then whispered back, "Goodbye snowflake, you're one in a billion that's for sure."

As I started to climb into the cab of the truck, he stopped me by holding my hand. He looked deep into my eyes as if to gauge my reaction, and then leaned forward and said, "Ana?"

"Yes?" my heart was in my throat.

 _If he asked me again, I would stay. Fuck work, fuck Seattle._

Leaning in close, he kissed my palm saying, "Please don't publish the interview."


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Thank-you for all the support for this story! Keep it coming!

Will Ana respect Christian's wishes?

Will they met again?

Read away and tell me what you think (Which one reviewer is kinda on the right track!). I appreciate the reviews, favourites, follows and the PMs.

Now tomorrow it is Christmas Eve, so bear with me, it's a busy time, with food prep and cleaning. The final two chapters will be posted, 12 hours apart? I'm not entirely sure, but they will be posted, because Christmas Day under my roof will be a nightmare. Enjoy.

 **BETA:** _Halo140_ and pusher _Stargazer93_

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVEN**

 **ALL I COULD SEE** on the screen were satanic demons, pitch forks, flames and my soul going straight to hell. The article, " _A blindfold finally lifted over romance mystery_ ," burned on the screen. It was only needing minor tweaking in the introduction, and a completed conclusion. My career rested on this spread, and my fulfillment was well within reach.

Instead, my stupid ill-advised head pounded the desk. Each time my head hit the wood Christian's words repeated, _"_ _Please don_ _'_ _t publish the interview._ "

 _Didn_ _'_ _t he understand what refusal meant?_

No career. No life. And an escalated path to unsophisticated shoes on a freelance salary.

The temptation was to ignore every word he said. Anyways, the likelihood we would ever see each other again were hovering around zero. This was his typical ass move, didn't he understand how selfish this was… but deep down wasn't I being egotistical?

"Oh fuck!" I cried out loud and continued to beat the desk. "I'm going to hell!"

No matter what happened between us, it's not worth the price. Too many people had betrayed Christian during his life, and I'm determined not being next on his list.

What the fuck is wrong with me? We are never going to see each other again, so this means nothing.

 _Finish the damn article Ana, you do not want to lose your career? Don't think from your heart, use that intelligent head of yours._

Unfortunately it comes at a cost not following your heart, as you can spend the rest of your life wishing you had.

"Ana?" Luke's voice echoed as the sound of his chair rolled towards my desk. Why can't this guy ever use his legs? "By the looks of it the interview didn't go so well?" I turned my head to his. My eyes burned and ready to burst at any moment.

"Oh I don't doubt, it's some of my best work." Thinking back to the screen, "Only the conclusion to go." Trying my best to sound peppy, of course failing as my eyes fogged over with guilt.

"Well, what's with the tears?" wiping my face with my sleeve, I glanced up at my friend knowing there was no way I could hide this from Luke.

"I think… I'm in love with him." I murmured as I continued to bang my head, knowing how stupid this must sound.

"Knew it. He was a dude." It was clear at the very moment as my words finally sunk in, "Woah, Ana that's some conclusion."

"Yeah tell me about it." And no matter how many times I beat myself with some common sense, I could only think about Christian, especially how he made me feel.

"Break now. Cafe now."

"What but it's not even ten—" Luke didn't give me a chance to finish, pulling me from my chair straight towards Fifty's cafe.

 **…..**

 **OUR QUICK BREAK** extended into an early lunch. We drank obnoxious spiced tea concoctions, topped with whipped cream and Christmas sprinkles. I poured my heart out to Luke and he never once complained.

Every aching moment was Christian. Speaking, thinking, dreaming. If any two people were dissimilar, it was us, yet our attraction was instant. I couldn't deny the sex was out of this world.

"Ana, because he could lick pussy, making you froth at your flaps. The guy's prodigal cock, doesn't make him God's gift to women? Especially you." Luke explained.

Luke had it all wrong.

It was a whole new level of understanding, caring for another human being. He made me watch the stars as we made love, who does that? Christian Grey, that's who. Knowing he was alone again, I wondered if I was etched on his mind as he was all I could think about.

"Well this is a shitty situation," Luke said, "You're here and he's there that's gotta suck. If I was away from Susannah," he stared outside the cafe window, "I would literary curl up into a ball."

My eyes lapped up his form of sympathy and considered the fetal position maybe my best option.

"Tell me about it." wiping a tear from my cheek, "Now Luke it's my first day, Lincoln is on so we really should head back."

"All right, all right. I hope you aren't too disappointed. I know how you get. Don't get all blue on and crack open the depressing poetry, Christmas is right around the corner. It's the happiest time of year, you need to be happy." And with the simple mention of Christmas made me think of my craft exercise.

"Oh God, the snowflakes," I cried into my hands.

"Jesus girl, you have got it bad!"

I sighed, "Possibly. I tried to write the article. Give it my best shot and I ended up falling for him. So I better start up a new profile on LinkedIn, because Lincoln has my resignation letter. I've got less than two weeks," I stood up, pushing in the chair ready to leave.

"What the fuck? And you're giving up… like that?" Luke appeared stunned, "What did Australia do to you? It's flipped you 180. When you left you were ready for the adventure, the hunt a story of a lifetime and now you're throwing it all away?"

"God Luke. I don't know ok!" gritting my teeth, I slammed my palms to the table. I did work my ass off for this, but when your heart is on the line too, it always trumps.

Sadly I thought Luke would understand, but we left in silence.

Back in the office the tension between my shoulder blades burned, as I tried to put my head back into my current role, society mumbo jumbo and making the most of what time I had left with Seattle Daily. When it came to Christian, my decision was made. Right or wrong I'm sticking to it. Maybe Lincoln would tear up my letter and everything will be all forgotten.

 _Honestly who was I kidding._

The day was filled with returned messages and endless emails. It was close to the end of a very dark day and my phone rang, hoping for the last time.

"Anastasia Steele." I name sang into the phone

"Hey."

I almost fell off my chair recognizing the voice. Luke quickly snooped his way back to my desk. ' _It_ _'_ _s him,_ ' I mouthed, and he replied, ' _No fucking way._ ' I couldn't stop my head from nodding as the grin was burning my cheeks.

"You're calling… me here?" I whispered in near panic, leaning halfway over my desk hoping I hadn't made too much of a scene.

"I needed to hear that you got back safely."

"Yes, thank you. But I would prefer if you didn't call me at the office, compromising your identity is a serious issue."

"Well, tell me your number." he hushed his voice and I couldn't but laugh at his silly gesture.

For a moment I almost forgot and I gushed out my cell number in one breath. To ensure he had it, I checked it twice and a third for good measure. It then hit me, "You're using the satellite phone."

"Yes."

"But you said—" I knew exactly what he said, satellite calls are very expensive.

"Remember I'm an author who has sold over 1 million books." I could sense his smile growing over his face, and if I could only see it.

"And I see you haven't forgotten how to gloat." I closed my eyes as my heart began hammering wildly, "Does this mean you missed me, since this must be costing you a small fortune?"

"Anything for you, and of course I miss you very much. Can I call later?"

"Of course," I refused to hide my enthusiasm, but work crept into my mind, fucking hell! "I'm sorry I've got a red carpet event to cover tonight, but you can call after."

"I wouldn't miss it, what time will you be home?"

"11."

"Oh and Ana." I listened attentively, twisting my fingers around the phone cord.

"Yeah."

"There is a surprise on your way."

" _Miss Steele._ " A loud voice called and I put my hand over the mouth piece, _"_ _My office now!_ _"_ Elena Lincoln's head popped out of her door office.

"Well Mr Grey I think I've reached my quota of surprises." I said sinking deep into the chair.

"I only hope you don't disappoint me, I'll call tonight. Laters."

My hands were shaking, not because I'm heading for the slaughter house to the unknown, rather Christian's spoken words, ' _I miss you very much.'_

Brushing down my pencil skirt, tucking the few stray hairs behind my ears, I knocked against the brass lettering ELENA LINCOLN Head Editor Seattle Daily. Stepping inside, without looking away from her computer screen, she motioned for me to take a seat.

 _Please don_ _'_ _t be bad. Employment is good, unemployment is bad._

"I've had a very interesting few days without you here Ana and now this." She pointed, but tacky holiday decorations obscured her screen. "Well you wouldn't believe it, I got off the phone with some big wig PR woman from L.A."

"L.A.?"

Why was someone from Los Angeles calling Lincoln, and what does it have to do with me? It doesn't make sense.

"Apparently you know the author _C Grey_."

All signs of life left the now shell of my body. I'm gobsmacked, how is this even possible? I've told no one other than Luke and that was only a few hours ago. Jesus are my phones tapped?

"I haven't forgotten, you were on that last effort to find them."

"Yes." my voice shook as my palms grew sweaty. I didn't want to say anything further unless she had the room bugged.

"Well congratulations are in order." she stated, "It seems you broke the unbreakable, because this PR woman says C Grey is ready for an interview. The thing which is baffling that the request is only for you. You have permission for an interview, write an article or a God damn thesis from what this woman was telling me."

My eyes drifted shut. This was Christian's surprise, the very words I wanted to hear. He's offering his anonymity on a platter for all to read. He was sacrificing it all for me to better my career. He's fucking crazy!

Joy flooded through my veins, was this Christian's way of saying he loves me? My hand pressed over my mouth, fearing I would cry at any moment.

"Well Ana, I'd be crying with joy too. I don't know what you did, but keep doing it. This is will be one of the biggest breaks this paper has had in a long time. I need you on this ASAP. I'm picturing the weekend edition, do you think it's possible for a portrait or some nice stills too? Think of the numbers."

"I'm sorry Elena," I lowered my head, "Grey will need to find someone else."

"Excuse me?" She almost fell from her chair, "You're joking, and I'm not laughing."

I needed to remain strong, now wasn't the time to back down. No matter how much I begged for my career to propel forward, but there was more on the line, than a headline.

"I can't do it." I said.

Lincoln shook her head, "The publisher insists you are the only one. No one else."

"I'm sorry," I blinked back the tears.

The hard-core Editor glared at me, holding my resignation letter, "This is still valid, think wisely Steele. You're letting this opportunity slip by so don't make the wrong choice."

Job stability wasn't playing any part of this decision. I swallowed hard, biting my lip, "I'm not going to change my mind."

Lincoln brow linked as soon as she heard my choice, but her final words weren't shocking, they were anticipated.

"I expect your desk to be cleared by new years day."

 **…..**

 **RACING THROUGH THE RED** carpet event, I finished earlier than expected. Kicking off my shoes, I wiggled out of my silver dress, shimmied out of my lace stockings and I grabbed the warmest pajamas I could find. Tossing back the blankets to my bed, I climbed in, staring at my cell urging it to ring.

The day had been exhausting but the night was further draining. Twice I caught myself snoring, waking up to the snort of panic, so when it did finally ring, it startled me and it almost slipped through my fingers.

"Christian," I said, knowing my voice sounded breathless and needy, "You're punctuality is perfect, right on 11."

"Hey." Of all words, this single one made all the stress from the day disappear.

The call sounded different, "Are you home? It sounds noisier for an isolated home in the desert."

"In Katherine at Tale's place. I figured since I'll be calling regularly, it would cut down spending my wealth from my many book sales." He chuckled.

"I got my surprise." my voice lacked anything but.

"You turned it down, didn't you?" I didn't know how to take his voice, but I knew what needed to be said.

"Of course I did. I care for you too much, even though this would boost my career for the better, I didn't want to unveil you to the world..." I hesitated, not sure if this was the right thing to say, "I want you all to myself."

"I know exactly how you feel, and I appreciate your kind gesture, Ana."

"Yeah." I let out a held breath, wanting him to express more.

"I really do miss you."

"Me too."

At one point I thought I had fallen asleep on the phone, due to it being so silent.

"Speak to me Christian," I begged, waiting to hear his husky voice in my ear.

"Are the stars out in Seattle?" he asked and I walked to my window. It was dark and a few speckles of light painted the sky, nothing compared to what I had experienced in Australia.

"Some and it's snowing."

"It's afternoon here, and all I can see are rainbows." he must have his snowflake with him.

"If only we were in the same place, it would be perfect."

"I would… I have something for you."

"You sure like giving gifts."

"You should have it by tomorrow, but you're exhausted," he whispered, "I need to let you go or I'm going to embarrass myself while listening to your little snores."

"No Christian, just a few minutes longer," I pleaded, yawning into my cell, "Tell me something which will wake me up."

"I haven't slept well the last few nights." his voice curled under my skin, "I miss admiring your curves, down your neck, along your breasts, over your gorgeous stomach and ending at your sweet core." Memories flood back to that night under the stars, and if I we could have more. "I never thought I could enjoy someone's company again, holding you in my arms, feeling our skin meld together burned deep Ana. The look in your eyes, when I'm buried deep inside of you." he paused, as he cleared his throat, "Ana if you could have one wish what would it be?"

This was easy and simple, "You," and I added, "home for Christmas."

"Thank you, I needed that," he whispered.

"Dream of me."

Because I knew I would be dreaming of him.

 **…..**

 **THROWING MY ALARM CLOCK** wasn't the best option since it was my cell. Even though I had close to six hours sleep I was rested. I hurried myself for an arduous day at Seattle Daily.

The next day, I felt rested only with a few hours of sleep. Back at Seattle Daily, there was a heavy box delivered to my desk. My chest hammered as I instantly knew it was from Christian, but surprisingly the return address was Los Angeles.

"What's in the box?" Luke asked as he wheeled his chair over from his desk. "Is it from lover boy?" he sang, pouted his lips together making repulsive kissing noises.

"Well the return address is LA, so…" I shrugged my shoulders, "maybe?" I weakly stated.

"Come on open it! I never get anything, and I'm bored out of my mind, I think your expressions with revealing its contents will fulfill the void."

"Jesus Luke!"

"What?" he gasped, "Don't keep me in suspense, I'm going grey here." And I almost choked on my saliva. "Fucking knew it." Luke chuckled while stretching his nails on the cardboard. "open me, open me," repeated until I caved.

"Fine!"

I pulled back the tap, and peeled back the cardboard flaps. The box was filled with sparkly silver paper and packing foam. Digging deep my hands stopped and out I pulled a stack of white paper tied in a grey ribbon. The front page read, _"_ _Untitled C Grey, unedited manuscript. Date Dec 2017._ "

"Ana what is it?" I barely heard Luke's words as I continued to stare at the stack of papers.

He sent it to me, his next story.

"It's his latest, unedited manuscript." I flicked the pages, and it was an interesting read as the story involved a woman called Anastasia.

"Ana, there's something else." Luke's head was in the box.

"Hey," I pushed him away, "my box, get out!"

My hand sieved in-between the thin slithers of paper and packing foam, until my hand found something firm. Removing it from the box, I rushed to unwrap the paper. Tears fell, as I held the grey ribbon. These were tears of joy as I admired the Swarovski crystal snowflake reflecting rainbows over my desk.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** Thank-you thank-you thank-you. I am blown away with the support for my little story, highly appreciate EVERY SINGLE review, favourite, follows and the PMs.

Only one chapter to go, I will post just before I go to sleep tonight, as Santa arrives.

 **BETA:** _Halo140_ and pusher _Stargazer93_

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHT**

" **HI, CHRI—"** I almost blurted out his name after desiring to hear his voice. It's been common practice now, I work and end my day before bed speaking to him.

"Annie?" an exhausted voice said.

Oh my, it's Momma.

 _Shit, shit, shit._

"Why haven't you called? We've barely spoken since you've returned from your author adventure to Australia."

"Mom," I drawled her name trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. "Forgive me, I've been meaning to call but with it being so close to the holidays, work has been exhausting." which wasn't a lie. I had been feeling a little lack of luster these last few days.

"You're still coming for Christmas? I need my baby girl home." she pleaded. "Now, I'm writing my grocery list and I know how you love my cranberry stuffing so should I be making it for three?"

It was feeble of me to hesitate, I needed a breather. For goodness sakes she was bribing me with turkey stuffing. The memories of my childhood filled my nose, and the thought of stuffing sounds delicious. I have already skipped Thanksgiving, my conscience hasn't been the same. So how could I leave my parents high and dry for a second holiday, it would be nonsensical.

"Yes of course Momma." my shoulders sagged, as my heart ached to be somewhere else. The irony was my bank balance refused to agree with the scheme.

"Now tell me, this isn't like you not calling, answering your cell and calls going direct voicemail? " she scolds.

How do you explain to your own mother, the very woman who was in labor for over 24 hours, that you want to be with someone who lives on the other side of the globe?

"Well, for starters I've been away from my desk, the events have been piling up, I'm swamped Mom." She didn't need to know that I'm wrapping up my stories, and nestled under my desk packing boxes are waiting for my departure from Seattle Daily.

" _Anastasia!_ Do not be dishonest with me, tell your Momma what's happening." she hammered me, calling out my lies. "You know your father and I are dying to hear the details about this mysterious author. I don't want the cliff notes for the hundredth time, I want the story, you are a reporter dear." Not for much longer.

My stomach twisted into a huge knot, "Mom, you haven't shared our conversations about Christian's identity?"

"Oh for goodness sake, how could this possibly be a secret?"

"Mom," I scold, irritated not following the strict anonymity I requested, "This is very important. He's very important, Christian has trusted me, so do not repeat this to anyone... that includes old Mrs Neige who you always gossip with."

"But yesterday we were only—"

"I'm serious Mom."

"If that's what you want sweetie, but once the article is—"

"There is no article Mom. Period!" I blared to her into the speaker.

If I want to be successful, I need to follow my passion of underlying love, not a weekly pay-check. It's obvious my devotion to words has developed into the very being of a mysterious author.

It can work. I will ensure it does, no matter the sacrifice.

"But, I thought, when you said—"

"I know but I've come to know Christian and want to respect his privacy." my voice softened as my mind traveled back to the moment when he made love to me under the stars.

"Ana?" Momma said. "You better tell me what happened, between you and this storyteller. And don't think you can hide a thing from me, the ending of your sentences are jumping an octave. Clearly, there's something going on here."

"What!" it was no use, my voice leaped further than what she suggested.

I swear my mother had a sixth sense. Since childhood, I was unable to hide anything from her. Now as an adult it seems like a curse. Does she want to hear her only daughter express all her mushy feelings for a man she only spent two days with?

 _Fuck it._

"I'm in love with him," I revealed.

"Who dear?"

 _Oh God does she always need to be this obtuse!_

"Christian. _Christian Grey_. The God damn author!" I asserted. Caring was minimal if she was going to ridicule me, so repeated his name again. "Christian Trevelyan-Grey." It was exceptional to express it out loud.

"Ana you were only in Australia for a few days, two at most."

"I realize it sounds outrageous, but I'm not stupid Mom, this is real."

"Now honey. Don't work yourself up, remember what happened in college?"

Oh, how could I forget, the curve of Kate's ass is engraved in my memory.

"Sweetie, love does strange things. It's usually the best things in your life which happen unexpectedly and these adventures of love are free from expectations."

Hearing her revelation, I fell onto my sofa, a hand resting on my thumping chest. All I can do is wonder if this was the same for Christian. _Love._

"Momma, you've taken the words straight from my heart. I thought he was an ass." chuckling at my label I've used many times for him. "but deep down he was wanting acceptance, friendship and most importantly, love. Ever since leaving Australia I've ached for him, this strange emotion of love has grown stronger for him. He's forever on my mind in a constant loop, it's like I'm only half a person waiting to become whole again."

"Oh dear," she paused, "The love bug has bitten you."

"Yeah, a huge chunk out of my heart."

"How will I ever tell your father, oh my sweet Annie." her voice was calm with a hint of sympathy.

I rolled onto my stomach laughing, I didn't need to tell her the obvious.

"Ana, I'm sure there is someway to approach the article and maintain the relationship, balance is always crucial in any relationship."

"No, the article is redundant." I bluntly replied.

Of course so is my job at Seattle Daily, but my mother didn't need to know that. I didn't want to breach his trust, he had given me a test and I didn't want to push it further.

"Sweetheart. Your career? Where do you think this relationship is headed?" my mother asked, clearly concerned for me.

"I don't know," shrugging my shoulders, knowing very well she can't see my action, "I don't think Christian does either. For right now, we're taking each day as it comes. Oh, Momma, you will never guess what he sent me. His next manuscript and a crystal snowflake."

I looked over to my window, where it hanged so the sunlight could cast rays of the spectrum throughout my apartment.

"It's always a challenge to win the trust of someone's heart, and he has handed you part of him, I'm speechless, a manuscript. Now I'm sure there's some crazy significance behind the snowflake."

"Yes." I laughed into the phone.

I thought back to Christian's ceiling covered with paper snowflakes and rainbows of light from a single crystal snowflake.

Mom chuckled along with me, "Now Ana. I don't want to burst your bubble, but this relationship is new. You're both in the honeymoon phase, it happens with all relationships, and soon enough reality will hit. I don't want you to set yourself up for heartache. Be smart and safe. I remember the months you struggled after Jose."

Oh, it wasn't just him, it was the hurt I received from my best friend too. I knew this scenario was completely different.

"I will Momma." I agreed, but I couldn't help thinking that love would see us both through whatever the obstacle or issue. I'm absolutely crazy for the man, snowflakes and all.

 **…..**

 **I WAS DROWNING** in my head barely above water as the articles piled up which needed completing. They were monotonous mind-numbing tasks, but none which couldn't be ignored. It was the sound of my cell chirping, which threw that out the window.

 **CHRISTIAN:** **Please tell me you're wearing a t-shirt & boxers because that** **'** **s all I** **'** **m picturing now.**

 **ANA:** Not sure if SD would approve the casual work dress. I'm rugged up, it's cold. Sleeves and long necklines. This girl needs to stay warm.

 **CHRISTIAN: Now if you only had stayed, this wouldn't have been an issue.**

 **ANA:** Don't remind me. What are you doing?

 **CHRISTIAN:** **I do not want to disclose. What about you?**

 **ANA:** Really? FBI antics? Well, I'm wrapping up a few loose ends, and singing along to some cheesy Christmas tunes. It's the only thing keeping me sane.

 **CHRISTIAN:** **Christmas is still a week out and you're singing?**

 **ANA:** Of course! My apartment has the perfect balance of Christmas cheer, my office, well it needed a soundtrack to balance the craziness. Besides, how are my snowflakes holding up?

 **CHRISTIAN: They traveled well, my apartment in Darwin looks like it** **'** **s snowing.**

 **ANA:** You took them with you?

 **CHRISTIAN:** **Of course. They remind me of you.**

 **ANA:** Oh such a sweet talker.

 **CHRISTIAN:** **I look at them and think of the beautiful night we had together.**

 **ANA:** Again, such a sweet talker.

 **CHRISTIAN:** **It was an incredible night, every time I look up to the skies, I miss you more.**

 **ANA:** Me too.

My cell pinged again as I looked at an image of Christian's apartment, and he was correct it does look like it's snowing.

 **…..**

 **PLACING MY CELL** on my desk, I knew I needed to work but my mind was locked in my outback adventurer. When it started to vibrate something chronic my cheeks burned seeing Christian's name flashing on the screen.

"Hello," I almost giggled like a school girl while hearing his heavy breathing on the other end.

"Hey, it seemed ridiculous texting when I could be listening to your voice," he replies.

"I agree." I run my hand down my skirt wiping away my nerves which had beaded on my palms. "Why are you in Darwin, I thought you liked living out in the desert?"

"Generally I do, but I'm going to be traveling soon and needed to prepare."

Baffled by his statement. Why in the world is he traveling, does he need to go beyond Darwin? Is it an obligation for work or... Pleasure? I'm hoping the latter, with everything crossed implying the possibility of Seattle. But with Christian, he can be cryptic at the best of times, so I brushed it off, commenting no further.

Knowing Lincoln was sharpening her pitchfork for me, I needed to tackle my never-ending pile of assignment no matter how tedious. Trying my best to end the conversation Christian told me he would be out of reach for a couple of days. Unfortunately, this vague message didn't go unnoticed.

"You're quite arcane." frustrated with how secretive he's being, I patiently waited for an answer.

"It's the mystery you love about me."

"And I know, somehow I'll survive," I assured him but deep down I'm already dreading not hearing from him.

"Survival maybe possible for you, but I'm going to suffer." his voice slowed and lowered in pitch.

"Christian," I laughed, heart warmed by his words. "In a way that was sweet."

He snickered softly, "I'm probably trying too hard, but I can't hide my feelings."

"Before you go, I wanted to ask are you heading towards the Northern Hemisphere for Christmas?" I mentioned with the hope he would take the hint and fly for a visit. "I'll be with my parents in Montesano…" biting my lip, I wanted to say more but Christian broke my silence.

"Have you spoken with my mother?"

"Actually no, I only met her the once... anyway Christian what I was trying to ask before, would you-"

Obstructing me again, he asked about his mother, "When you spoke with her did she need anything?"

 _Her son, but I couldn't say that to him._

"Why the twenty questions... you can tell me anything, is there something bothering you?" I asked.

"I've been reading her message…" his voice was low, concerned, and different from the teasing banter earlier. "Maybe it's time." he went quiet, his muted silence.

"Christian from what I observed she's physically fine, but clearly there was one thing she was missing."

"Ana, _please._ " he voice almost cracked.

Telling lies to protect someone you love, is a darkened path and often it only destroys in the end. José and Kate did this to me years ago as they tried to preserve our lives on how I wanted to see it and it hurt. I couldn't do the same. Christian needs a clear light to hear the truth.

"She needs her son," I said.

There was a significant pause, he breathed into the speaker, but I waited, I wasn't going anywhere.

"That's exactly what I thought." his words were barely audible, "I'm sorry I need to leave, I'll be in touch in a few days."

"One, two, a week?" I began to panic, "Christian, Christmas is next week."

"Exactly." And the line went dead.

He hung up. Not a simple goodbye, nothing. We were back to square one like the first night we met, mute communication.

 **…..**

" **AND WHAT** **'** **S UP YOUR ASS?** **"** Luke blared for the whole office to hear. He rolled his way to my desk, chewing on a God awful tuna sandwich which wasn't helping my rolling stomach.

" _Jesus Luke!_ " I cursed, slapping my keyboard, "Use your fucking legs!" punching individual keys, while snorting at his bad habit.

" _O-kay_ … let me rephrase that. _Taken your meds lately_?"

"Luke," I growled at him. I couldn't help myself.

I continued seething, trying my best to finalize this story, knowing my end at Seattle Daily was near. Aggravation was at a bursting limit, Christian hadn't bothered to call in four days and it's Christmas in three. He didn't give me a chance to ask him properly to visit my parents for the festive holiday. Jesus Christ, what's happening in my life?

"Ana," an arm wrapped around my back. "It's ok, breathe."

"Huh?" I sniffed trying to hold back the tears.

Luke's weight was bearable, it was comforting but that tuna sandwich was causing acid burn in the back of my throat.

"Get off me!" trying to push him away, but I had little luck.

"You're not ok. Your fucking crying. I've noticed over the last few days the Ana I know has left the building, where is my bubbly Ana?" Luke pouted, "For starters, have you seen what are on your feet?"

My feet? What has my feet got to do with this? I pulled my chair out and looked down to see my usual three inch-pump or Louboutin. I thought I was going to vomit, it was knee-high Uggs. Since when did I own Uggs? Looking closer I hadn't even realize that I wasn't dressed appropriately either. Grey sweatpants and an oversized knitted sweater. And I'm being told at 3 pm!

"He hasn't called me." The words were out of my mouth, and there's no taking them back, "this is too much, what happens if he's decided he doesn't want to try what we were doing."

"Woah, woah, woah… back up there a second. Don't jump to conclusions, burning him at the stake. Are you even together, it's what been, two, three weeks since you first met?"

"22 days." My head rested on my desk, no need to beat myself, I've been doing it already. It was my calendar which caught my attention thinking of a particular date, trying not to make a larger scene.

"See Ana, it's very early days." he stroked my hair and continued to eat that awful sandwich, "Come out tonight. Suzie is hormonal, just like you but multiplied by a thousand. I need a break, a quick drink…"

"Umm…" I wasn't sure if I should, sleep may be the best option.

A familiar sound ping through my cell.

 **CHRISTIAN:** **I'** **m back.**

"It's him isn't it?" Luke asked, attempting to look over my shoulder.

All I did was smile, and I prayed to God thanking him for giving him back to me. I quickly replied.

 **ANA:** I've been worry. Ok losing my mind not knowing. I don't like it when you go mute.

 **CHRISTIAN: It** **'** **s good to hear you miss me. ;-)**

I punched out a witty replied, and held my thumb over the send button, but deleted it, throwing my cell back on my desk. I needed to get back to work. Even though I was dying to know if he felt the same, while he left me hanging for the last few days, because I've missed him.

"So Ana about tonight?" Luke said.

"Sorry I'll need to pass."

" _Fine_ ," he huffed, "I'll ask Reynolds." and he rolled away leaving me alone.

Straightaway, my mind went back to my calendar. If my dates are correct tonight I need to bypass CVS to collect a very important package.

 **…..**

 **PACKING UP FOR** the evening I tucked my phone into my purse, and lifted my coat, as my desk phone rang. I thought for a second to leave it, if it was urgent they would call my cell. When it rang for the fifth time, I couldn't avoid it.

"Anastasia Steele."

"Ana?" The voice was vaguely familiar, she spoke with a soft tone. Without a doubt it was Grace.

"Oh good," she sighed, "It's Grace Trevelyan-Grey, Christian's mother. I understand it's late, but I hadn't heard from you… and so many developments have happened here… and…"

"Grace, slow down you're talking too fast."

And that very moment, I felt horrible that I hadn't gotten in touch with Grace sooner.

"Grace, I'm so sorry I've been meaning to call." I started the conversation with a convenient excuse, lies which came too easy these days, even for my own family.

"You spoke with Christian." Grace said.

"Yes." I couldn't exactly find the correct words to tell this woman that Christian was a confused lost soul, but I stopped myself.

"And you gave him the book."

"Yes." I didn't know how to extend the conversation. "He has a beautiful dog called GT."

"GT." she sounded happy, as her voice chirped.

"Yes, he named her after you Grace. Your initials. Grace Trevelyan. He does love you, in an odd kind of way. At first, when I saw her, I thought GT was a wolf or a beast of sorts but she's buttered up to me quickly." Oh God, I hadn't thought about GT in weeks. I hadn't even asked Christian. Oh, I missed her, and I couldn't help but let my tears fall.

"Grace he's happy and… he gave me a crystal snowflake."

"He did?" her words flooded out quickly, "That gives me hope."

"Hope?"

The line went silent for a moment, "Ana… you both love each other."

"I hope so," I mumbled. I don't know why I hesitated, but after a few slow breaths, I said, "Yes, of course, I do. He stole my heart in that Australian desert and I can only hope he wants mine."

"I'm sure of it." her answer was confident and short.

"Grace, I know this is a strange question to ask, but what are you doing for Christmas?"

 **…..**

 **AFTER SPEAKING WITH GRACE** for close to forty-five minutes she agreed to attend the Steele's traditional Christmas Lunch. I waited for hours but my cell remained silent. During that time I pondered with what was resting in the bag from CVS. It was inevitable and couldn't deny the elephant in the room.

I had amazing sex, every mind-blowing time unprotected. The calendar didn't lie either. My period was a week late.

At twenty-seven this was my first time, what do you do in a situation like this, well other than panic. I didn't want to worry him. The plastic crunched in my shaky hands as I peeled it back, popping off the blue cap, I counted to ten aiming my stream on the stick. Placing it on my bathroom counter I waited for the result to show.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** Thank-you thank-you thank-you. I am blown away with the support for my little story, highly appreciate EVERY SINGLE review, favourite, follows and the PMs.

This is the final chapter to this story. Maybe next year I will write a second installment but for now it is complete. For readers/followers of my other story Misplaced & Found, I will start to re-upload the edited re-worked story in the new year. Thanks again.

Now I wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

 **BETA:** _Halo140_ and pusher _Stargazer93_

* * *

 **CHAPTER NINE**

 **STARING, MY PALMS SHOOK** as I studied, the three major lines of head, heart, and life were a cross-haired mess. Yeah, reality bared in my hands, that's for sure. Turning them over my nails flicker in the small slither of daylight. At the time of my nail appointment, the snowflakes design seemed fitting.

I'm not so sure now.

Seattle was its usual self as I reflected the cold miserable weather rugged up in sweats and Uggs. With my hands tight on the leather steering wheel, pressed the gas, turning into the street and off I drove.

Montesano will either be a revelation or the death of me. This trip is pinnacle due to the number of knee-jerk moves I've made during December in this monumental game of chess. As soon as my fingers are off the playing piece, dark or light, mistakes are instantly recognized. Pandemonium is all that remains. My chest thumps in panic and fear of the unknown, leaving myself wide open for the opponent's move.

It doesn't help my opponent, well… partner is mute in communicating, and it's utterly crucial I have a conversation with him.

Christmas Eve is supposed to be beautiful, but I'm only full of trepidation. I've lacked sleep for the better half of a week, unable to keep down my good to stress foods and I'm beyond worried about Christian.

 _Why hasn't he called?_

I've officially stepped away from Seattle Daily, as everything is finalized. As of the 1st of January, I'll be a free woman to write when, where and what she pleases. Montesano seems the best option away from the city boiling pot, so I can get things straightened. There are huge changes on the way, but the question is how am I going to tell my loved ones.

Since first light, I tossed my quilt to the floor. I was bone tired spending all hours waiting by my cell urging it to ring, but I needed to move if I planned to be in Montesano by nightfall. Staring at my reflection, I wondered if I'm making the best choices and I knew mirrors only show what we look like. And I looked like shit, this reflection was not who I am. But who was I? Currently an unemployed confused woman. My attempt to find the old Ana by slapping on layers of concealer, trying to disguise the dark circles, she barely appeared. There were no best work attire and four inches heels, instead, I was dressed in sweats, Uggs, and a messy bun.

Even though it's a three hour trip to my parent's place, each mile on the road was a struggle. My mind wondered, over thinking every scenario between Christian and I. Did I say something for him to become so silent? The fear was setting in. Was I pushing too much? And that single word was threatening to overwhelm me, but I couldn't. I needed to drive, so blinking back the tears were my only option.

Christian had been reticent for the past few days, other than a single message informing me he was back. I appreciated the kind gesture, but it felt he had taken a step back from whatever we were doing. Luke doesn't believe it one second that he doesn't like… _love me._

" _Ana he'_ _s nuts about you,_ _"_ _Luke pointed to Christian_ _'_ _s manuscript on my desk, still unread._ _"_ _The phone calls, messages_ _…_ _and flowers. He makes the average man look bad, and he doesn_ _'_ _t even live on the same continent._ _"_ _Luke said._

 _He was correct, I had been spoilt, but that doesn_ _'_ _t mean he_ _'_ _s into me, maybe he_ _'_ _s being_ _…_ _pleasant about the situation._

" _I'_ _d like to believe you, but Christian_ _'_ _s gone_ _…_ _it's mute._ _"_ _I slumped into my chair, spinning it back and forth not wanting to make eye contact._

" _Ana he was facing some horrific shit. Anyone with two working brain cells could identify that in his novels, but he chose only one person to share everything with. Fuck he gave you the ok for the interview and you turned it down!_ _"_ _All the spinning in my chair was making me nauseous, and I needed to stop._

 _Holding my hand over my mouth, I relaxed,_ _"_ _I thought_ _…"_ _I didn_ _'_ _t want to believe the obvious, but I guess Luke will lay it down for me._

" _You thought many things_ _…_ _too many in fact and over evaluated. Maybe write the piece as a freelancer, it would do wonders for your career._ _"_ _Luke said._

 _I couldn_ _'_ _t break his privacy. It wasn_ _'_ _t my story to share, and being too involved I didn_ _'_ _t want to become the next person to break his trust._

" _No._ _"_ _I firmly stated to Luke, shaking my head._

" _Woah_ _…_ _are you off your fucking rocker?_ _"_ _Luke walked to me, leaving his chair behind,_ _"_ _Someone call 911 stat; Ana is losing her shit ladies and gentlemen._ _"_ _he pointed to me, ensuring the whole office was listening._

 _Trying my best to hush his words, my hand covered his mouth to stop this nonsense. But no matter how hard I tried he continued to mumble through my fingers._

" _Shut it_ _…_ _I fucking can_ _'t."_ _I hissed through gritted teeth._

 _The mumbling stopped and I slowly released my hand as he nodded to remain calm._

" _Then give him what he wants._ _"_ _Luke suggests,_ _"_ _Don_ _'_ _t be an idiot Ana._ _"_

 _The words tumbled out of my mouth,_ _"_ _He loves me._ _"_

 _It was the only scenario that made sense to the whole situation. He had never said those exact words, but I refuse to believe he doesn_ _'_ _t. This mute behavior is destroying my heart and my mind is quickly following._

" _So where is he now?_ _"_ _Luke asked raising a brow._

 _I shrugged,_ _"I'_ _m guessing back on his remote property in the outback._ _"_

" _Fucking Australia?_ _"_ _He squawked,_ _"_ _But I thought he would have_ _…"_

 _I didn_ _'_ _t know for sure, but I had confidence no matter where he was, the outback, Katherine or Darwin, I hope he was as miserable as I was._

 _A shrug seemed fitting, as I stared at Christian's manuscript and then back a Luke. Life was moving on, and I didn't want to fall behind._

" _I'_ _m sure he_ _'_ _ll come around._ _"_ _he rubbed my shoulder, and the comfort was relieving but it was far from the void of Christian._

" _No,"_ _I held his hand to stop,_ _"_ _Luke I don't think that's true or he would be here already, or I would be in Australia._ _"_

" _Oh come here Ana, I'm going to miss you,_ _"_ _and it was a hug I needed._

 _"I'm going to miss you too, you big lump." I snuggled into his chest._

Everything, in turn is a gamble, naturally, I wasn't a good player no matter the odds, or a game of cards or chess, I was out on a limb waiting for the branch to snap. I had my doubts between Christian and I. Chance played its part, but sometimes the slightest things change and a random moment links. _Fate._ This is how we connected but was fate pushing us apart too? It niggles in my mind that maybe we weren't meant to be.

It's the waiting which hurts the most. I could not help but stare at my cell, resting on the console, insisting on my opponent's next move.

 **…..**

 **THE POSITIVES OF WINTER** , are warmly spiced tea blends, carols, and the holiday season. The negatives are cold, numbed hands, miserable weather and slick icy roads.

My drive was tagged by a lingering grey cloud from Seattle. There was only 35 miles to go. It seemed like the longest stretch home to Montesano. The twitch of my fingers, tapping, stroking the wheel and gear shift, my stare pinged from road to cell. No matter how many times I stared it remained quiet.

"Ring… please call me!" I muttered to myself.

I tried singing to ease my anxiety, or thinking of new year resolutions I'll never keep. My prayers were answered as my cell began to vibrate something chronic. Quickly pulling over, not risking an accident, I gasped identifying the Australian code 61+.

Doom and foreboding gloom wanted to escape in an onslaught of screams. The fear that I have no control over what was going to be said, my heart racing, thumping at a worrying rate. Through all the commotion I almost dropped my cell and pressed receive call.

"Hello?" my voice was barely audible as it croaked into the cell.

 _Please be Christian, please be Christian._

" _Merica Girl_ , it's-" the Australian twang wobbled, as he continued to strain his final words, "Mr Jason Taylor."

" _Tales?_ "

The shock was an understatement, I couldn't imagine why he would be calling. Images flashed before my eyes of Christian injured or dead. Gripping the cell tight, my right manicure was being munched by my teeth, chipping at the nail-polish and glitter.

" _Oh God,_ " I gasped, "Tell me Tales, is he hurt? Did something happen... please tell me." I begged, tears threatening to fall as my chest ached deliberating over the horrible scenarios. "Oh God, Tales," I wailed into the speaker, unsure what to think.

" _Merica Girl_ … Ana… hey, he's not injured or in the hospital. But I know there must be something wrong." I swallowed, slightly relieved but unsure what Tales was trying to tell me. "Tell me what happened between the two of you?"

I tried my best to catch my breath. I needed to relax, but I was anxious to share personal information, even if Tales was Christian's good friend.

"Ask him." the words blurted out, being friends they must have discussed it. Why was he relying on my answer?

"Don't give me the run around _Merica Girl_ , I haven't heard from him in days. I'm worried shitless," _You_ _'_ _re not the only one Tales_ , "He wasn't himself before he nicked off. In the few years I've known him, I've never seen him like this… ya know?" Tales said.

Exhaling my held breath, I whispered into the cell, "Yeah… What? hang on what do you mean?"

"I thought you two lovebirds only had a falling out or something?"

"Honestly Tales, I'm not even sure." I beat my skull on the headrest.

The line went silent for a moment, "I'm confused. I thought things were going well, he couldn't shut up about you, blabbing about everything. All. The. Time. What I do know is the fella loves ya… alcohol works wonders on a quiet man. He confessed his heart, and a few days later he packed up and was gone."

Maybe something had happened. Questions flew in my mind, did he reveal everything to his friend? Our relationship? His past relationships? The struggles with his mother? Oh God, his childhood abuse? Most worrying is he was still missing.

"Listen, Tales, his mother is visiting tomorrow I can try talking with her, there is a possibility she's heard something."

 _Really Ana? They haven_ _'_ _t spoken in years, this is a dead end._

I need to be positive, it's Christmas and I'm owed a fucking miracle with how the state of my life is progressing.

"If I hear from him, I'll let you know." I firmly stated.

"But, you love him right?" I tried my best to blink back the tears hearing that word, he still hasn't said to me.

"Yes... of course, I do."

There was no denying it. It's obvious that very first night we were drawn together. His words, his passion, and those endless stars and snowflakes.

"Well thank fuck for that," he chuckled into the speaker.

"If I hear anything I'll let you know, I need to get going and I appreciate your call."

 _Click._

I disconnected the call.

I was in limbo, he loved me and he wasn't only missing from my life but others as well. Instantly my stomach roiled, this is all too much for me to handle, Christmas wasn't supposed to be filled with unnecessary stress.

Lunging to the door handle, trying my best to open it, but my seat-belt was holding me back. It tugged hard over my chest, winding me. My fingers fumbled with the latch as the door swung open. I sprinted onto all fours hurling everything my body had to give. Which wasn't much.

The cool air took my breath away, as the combined stench of vomit and pine filled my nose.

 _Dear life when I said it couldn't get any worse, it wasn't a challenge._

 **…..**

 **I WEPT FOR HOURS,** unsure how to press on. As the cloudy day turned into the dark of night, I was late and my mother would be calling. Obviously, I didn't need the unnecessary distraction while on the road.

The drive was dark and my head was foggy. I wasn't sure if it was due to what was weighing in my belly or the overall lack of sleep. The stars began popping out one by one and suddenly the first snowflake fell on my windshield. Christian. It's Christian I think of every time.

Small rainbows flared on the road through the windscreen, as headlights whooshed past me. In the distance, the stars were becoming brighter and brighter. My eyes left the road for a split second as the familiar chirp sounded on my cell. Snatching the phone, the name "Christian Grey" lit up the screen. It was a message. As I tried to read it, the stars were shimmering too bright, and I swerved unable to see where I should be driving.

Everything slowed down, to a snail pace as I floated like a snowflake landing abruptly until the black sky took hold. Darkness, silent, sleep.

 **…..**

" **HEY LITTLE LADY,** **"** A voice said.

A warm hand held tight, squeezing my own in regular pulses. It was when they stroked my forehead everything began to hurt. I let out a yelp, deep from the back of my throat expressing my pain.

"Oh, this is wonderful news… _Carol, she_ _'_ _s awake tell the emergency operator_." the voice called out to another.

"Oh, Nicholas I'm already on to it... _Yes, I'm still here. The young woman is awake, the only injury we can see is a small gash on her forehead, but we're unsure how long she_ _'_ _s been out in the snow_ _…_ " her voice began to fade as if she were walking away from me.

My eyes blurred as flickering lights strobbed around me. In the distance, the sirens blared and the rainbow of colors changed to hues of blues and reds.

" _Wh-wh-_ what's going on?" My teeth chattered as the cold sunk into my bones, " _Wh-wh-_ where am I?" I continued to shake.

"The EMTs are here to help you, little lady," the deep voice notified me. "It was only by chance we saw you. Your vehicle rolled down the embankment. Praise the Lord your headlights remained on, as that's what caught my attention. You surely gave me and my wife a scare." he said.

Trying to focus on the man's features, something dripped down my face. It was an involuntary response as my hand tried to wipe the moisture away when I saw the red on my hand, instantly my heart began to race.

"Oh my God, it's _bl-bl-_ ood."

"Sweetheart, you were in an accident," I could hear grinding and hammer sounds, "They are just breaking you free now. You are a Christmas miracle."

" _Th-th-_ thank you" was all I could manage.

"What is your name dear?" He asked, never letting my hand go.

"Ana… Anastasia…" I hoped he would give me his name.

"Nicholas." he laughed a jolly chuckle.

Everything moved quickly, as the jaws of life cut me free, from my destroyed car. My ears were ringing as the sirens merged into a loud roar.

" _Head laceration, rib bruising, was found unconscious_ _…_ " a firm voice stated, but I couldn't focus on the fuzzy figures surrounding me.

I felt as if I were being pulled limb by limb. The pain was unbearable, it hurt. My head, my chest and a dull pain around my waist. Voices I didn't recognize were mumbling over and over, but all I knew I was cold as my muscles tightened and teeth began to chatter.

Lying back horizontal, the sky above twinkled. The stars were beautiful as images of my sparkly shoes, the cosmos that night in Australia and Christian burst through my mind.

" _No further visible injuries._ Ma'am, ma'am stay with me, now where does it hurt?" touching my head, it pounded and I remembered the blood. Why was I incredibly sleepy?

"Here," I indicated to my forehead as my hand shook, "my chest, and," I whimpered, "around my waist… I'm so cold… and feel… _tir-ed_." my speech slowed, as my eyes grew heavy.

"Are you allergic to any medications, diabetic, asthmatic?" the voice was coming in and out.

Admitting made it real, " _I-I-I_ 'm pregnant… the baby needs to be o-o-kay." I bellowed out, my tears were dripping down my face, pooling in my ears. Why hadn't I thought of it sooner, my baby.

Words, shouted left and right. I couldn't focus who was speaking, as it was causing my head to spin.

" _Woman in late 20s._ _"_

" _Head lacerations._ _"_

" _Bruising to torso and stomach._ _"_

" _Confirmed early pregnancy._ _"_

" _Direct to Summit Pacific Medical._ _"_

Blinking back my tears, I whispered as my throat was hoarse and dry, "I-i-i-s everything going to be ok… is the baby—" I sucked in my lip, I couldn't say it.

I realized it was another gamble I had taken, a move which flashed before my very eyes, but this little flash meant everything.

"Ma'am I need you to relax, please remain on the gurney…"

I was panicking and couldn't breath as everything began to look like small snowflakes dotting my eyes. As they closed, the full spectrum of colors, my very rainbow of light flamed my vision until it all grew black.

 **…..**

 **WHAT A FUCKING NIGHT!** The devil has danced in my skull as a dull ache lingered in my head. Maybe an AA-Bomb would do the trick. Getting up seemed problematic as something was ahold of my hand. Flinching back my hand, something bit my hand as it stung. Fucking ouch. Opening my eyes there was only white and an extreme bright light. Shutting them instantly I enjoyed the darkness again.

This wasn't right, nothing was familiar, only foreign. A regular beep bounced around, and the disinfectant pine odor engulfed my senses, making my insides roil. Protection was my first thought as I tried to wrap my hands around my belly but was stopped. Trying for a second time fluttering my lids, the anxiety was boiling over, making me feel sick to my stomach.

"Oh sweetie, I'm so glad you're okay." my mother held my hand tight, and I noticed her other hand was holding a bundle of tissues. "Relax baby girl, don't pull on the wires and IV."

"Momma?" I opened my eyes wide, trying to see straight, " _Where, what_ _…_ _what_ _'_ _s going on?_ "

Staring at my hands shaking at the unknown, there was medical equipment around me. A drip, heart monitor attached to my chest, and a clip on my index finger.

"Annie you were in an accident outside McCleary."

I rubbed my aching head, to feel a soft bandage over a small section on my forehead. The thought of blood tried my memory.

"I watched the nurse stitch you up, all twelve in fact, you were out cold, but I'm so glad you're awake now." my mother stated.

The light blaring through the blinds on the window made me think I had been sleeping for a while, "What time is it?"

"It's morning… early."

"Well Merry Christmas, this is just the icing on the cake," I huffed to myself. A wave of warmth pushed from my stomach to my throat, and I knew at any moment I was going to be sick. "Mom… I'm going to be—"

I cupped my mouth but my fingers were going to hold back the force of vomit. It was already too late the moment I felt it coming. I tried to get up, but my body faltered and through sheer instinct I hurled my insides over the edge of the bed.

" _Oh Annie_ ," was all I heard my mother say, as my ears clouded over and eyes blurred.

I felt like shit. Everything tasted like shit. I hate this.

"Well it's good to see you're awake, and I'll get something for the nausea." I looked to see a large nurse checking my file and IV. Using the back of my hand I wiped away the remnants of my vomit. Embarrassed by the whole ordeal, I knew soon I would need to tell my parents about my pregnancy with the author who was currently MIA.

"Is this nausea due to the head injury?" my mother questioned the nurse.

" _Umm_ ," the nurse, looked at me and I closed my eyes, feeling everything drain from my face, "Oh the saline can upset some people's stomachs after a head injury. Now Ana are you in any pain?" crisis averted.

I nodding "yes my pride," I grimaced.

"Oh Ana, don't worry about a thing, you were in a terrible accident and we need to get you all mended. Now shortly the doctor will be seeing you."

Within minutes my room was cleaned, and smelling of that God awful pine disinfectant which didn't help my stomach one bit.

Trying to play back the accident, no matter how hard I tried it remained a hazy mess.

"Momma."

"Yes sweetie." she answered.

"I need to let Grace know that Christmas lunch is off. Can you pass me my cell." Right before my eyes, I could see Christian's name flashing before me. He messaged me, I was trying to read it… and the accident. " Mom can you please give it to me… now." but she only shook her head.

"Why are you shaking your head, I need my cell… this is urgent. Really important Mom." I felt the tears welling in my eyes.

"Sweetie, it's probably in the wreckage, your car is being towed later today."

"No, no no," my throat closed as I looked up at the ceiling, trying my best to blink away the tears, but there was no stopping them… they fell.

"Annie it's ok, it's just a cell, I'm sure we can find Grace's number. Remember sweetie these things can be replaced, you on the other hand can not."

 **…..**

 _ **CHRISTIAN**_

 **IF YOU HAD ASKED** me a month ago if I would be on a whirlwind trip across the globe, there wouldn't have been an answer, only silence. But this woman, oh God this woman, she infuriates me but makes me feel whole. With the short time we spent together she stripped me back bare, to a single bright light. Now I'm opened to seeing the full spectrum not only white and the shades of greys to black which I had been clouded by for years. This trip is for the better, clearing my past, amending broken trust and building a strong relationship all for the better.

After confessing, spilling every detail of my life to my best friend Tales, hiding from the truth was no longer an option.

" _I love Anastasia Steele, and she makes me a better person." I yelled out to the vast landscape, as my words echoed into the distance. Not regretting my words, I still needed the courage for what I wanted to do next and drew back a large gulp of XXXX._

" _A better drunk I say," Tales laughed clinking our bottles together. He slapped my back almost winding me, but I laughed and enjoyed sharing my secret._

The following morning hungover and regretting nothing, I made my way to Darwin catching the first available flight home. I didn't know what welcoming party I would receive but that didn't matter. I was amending my trust, building up our relationship.

Since arriving back on home soil, my mother and I have spent the last few days getting to know each other again. Expressing our pain, troubled past and the steps to overcome these issues. We needed to build a future as Mother and son again.

Only a few days ago I suggested my mother to contact Ana. My girl didn't know the wiser, I was staying in Bellevue, only fifteen minutes from her own apartment. It was like GT knew who my mother was talking to, as the old girl flapped her tail back and forth. When Ana gave my mother an invitation for Christmas lunch, we both took it as an open invitation.

Now only a block from her childhood home, I felt as though I was a child again. Excited about Christmas morning, waiting to see my present, Anastasia Steele. The thought of her name, made my heart beat out of my chest. I looked down at my gift, a precious bag filled with every kind of snowflake I could find but it's the small box I'm dying to hand her. GT barked on the back seat as she could sense we weren't far away, wagging her tail excitedly to see her girl too.

"We're here." my mother sang, even though it's early days we are both making an effort.

"Thanks Mom, I truly appreciate it." I rested my hand over hers.

The Steele's residence was a beautiful family home, with immaculate gardens, a white picket fence, and shutters over the front windows. It's obvious where Ana gets her love of the holiday spirit as the whole front yard was covered in Christmas cheer.

"I love you with all my heart, but you could have at least shaved." my mother said.

I rubbed my face, enjoying the length of my beard. It had been many years since I've experienced weather anything remotely this cold, let alone the threat of snow. This was for protection and adaption to the weather.

"What would Ana think," she shook her head, "that you're some outback caveman." But of course a small smile formed on her face.

"I doubt she will even worry about my facial hair Mom." and I smiled with her.

We walked up the stone path to the front door. My hand rested behind my mother's back and ensured GT was on a leash. Pressing the front door bell we all waited.

 _Nothing._

Our only answer was a gust of cold air through the porch. Looking through the front windows I couldn't see a soul within the house.

"Call her." Mom suggested.

Only, I was surprised to hear her voice message, _"Ana Steele, leave your name and number and I'll get right back to you."_

Turning to my Mom her face mirrored my own, confusion.

"Maybe they attend morning mass for Christmas, we are a few hours early darling." Mom said, but something wasn't adding up and GT had the same suspicions.

"Stay by the car, I'll ask a neighbor," I started to walk, "to see which church, I'll be back in a jiffy." I called out to her, almost next door.

As soon as I was out of sight of my mother, GT and I ran to the neighbour's door and knocked hoping they would be cooperative.

Keys jingled, and the door creaked open, "Good morning, Merry Christmas Sir," and then a small woman with white hair, popped out her head, "and Ma'am." Even GT barked to say hello.

"What can we do for you son?" the man asked.

"I'm wondering about the Steeles next door," I pointed to the house, behind the bushes, "they aren't home, you wouldn't happen to know when they would be back?" I had my fingers crossed that they were only at church.

The woman gasped, and looked at her husband, "Oh haven't you heard, their daughter was in a nasty accident last night down near McCleary." the older man said.

"Oh Carla was telling me the state of her vehicle was terrible, and being Christmas, it's so unfortunate…"

The woman continued to list through details of the accident, but everything seemed to buzz in my ears. I didn't know how to breathe, think…

"Are you alright son?" a large hand gripped my shoulder, "you're looking a little pale, and easy there woofie." GT's barking brought me back to reality. The reality Ana maybe gone.

" _GT heel_ ," and she stopped. "I'm sorry about this… is Ana ok?"

"I don't know," the couple looked at one another, but I could read their faces, it was bad. Maybe I was too late. "Carla and Ray were heading back to the hospital early this morning…"

"Which hospital?"

In unison the husband and wife said, Summit Pacific Medical. In a half ass effort, I wished them a Merry Christmas and thanks. Running back to the car, I punched the hospital into Google trying to find an address.

"Mom, car now." I hissed.

"Christian, what's wrong?" she sat in the driver's seat, waiting for an explanation.

"No mom, we need to go…" feeling my world crashing, I pushed my phone into her face, not caring how I was behaving, "Here, right now." I panted.

"What's wrong, what's happening… why are we going to a hospital 20 minutes away?" Mom said, panicking unsure what was happening.

"It's Ana, and you better make it ten."

… **..**

 _ **ANASTASIA**_

" **YOU NEED TO TRY** and eat something," I shook my head like a toddler, I knew my stomach wouldn't hold it in, so there was no point. "Well at least drink, you need to drink more fluid for your tests."

It had been a few hours and I still didn't have the heart to tell her, my abdominal ultrasound is for my pregnancy.

Reaching over to Momma I gave her hand a gentle squeeze. I wanted everything to be back to normal, but it seemed hopeless since it all started because I craved a more, a meaningful career.

"Did you hear from that author again?" Mom asked.

I lied as my head shook feeling guilty by my omission.

I had, but my cell was somewhere in the wreckage. For all I knew his message was to tell me goodbye, or that he was traveling to another country to get away from me. There was no doubt, Christian Grey owned my heart, and that he will be forever a part of me, as my hands cupped my stomach.

"Well honey, I'm glad you are still with us, and especially home for the holidays." she rubbed my arm, trying to smile, and keeping it together for the both of us.

I wanted my father here with me too, but the non talker in the family always wears his heart on his sleeves. He was devastated seeing me unconscious last night. So his support has been from the waiting room, and he will wait until I'm one hundred percent.

"Me too Momma." I whispered.

Life was changing and I didn't know how to tell her what was happening. My lease is ending, no job and I might be returning to Montesano on a more permanent basis.

 _The highlight of my life, living with my parents at almost 30._

"Please don't get upset with me, but I need to get your father home, keep him occupied in his workshop, he's a mess dear. I better make a start on the food too, the morning is almost over. Will you be ok here for a few hours?"

An elderly doctor entered the room, "Well if everything looks good on the scan, you will be good to go later tonight, just in time for Christmas supper." he rubbed his swollen belly.

"Thank you doctor," Mom rubbed her hand over my cheek, pinching it like I was five again, "I'll be back in a few hours, love you sweet heart."

"Love you too Momma."

As she left the room, I flicked my head back waiting for the onslaught of questions. Instead, I only received a technician with a large ultrasound machine and a rather intimidating wand.

"Now Ana, it's good to hear you're better after that commotion last night. I'm doctor Nowell, I work within the Obstetrics department."

"You're a baby doctor," I gulped and wondered what was the fate of my baby.

"Now I've heard you have a little one on the way." he said.

I gave him all the details I knew, since I hadn't seen my OB in Seattle since everything had happened at a lightning pace. He assumed I was no more than six weeks along and needed a transvaginal scan.

My eyes didn't leave the wand, since it was two times the size of BOB located in my top dresser drawer.

"Don't stress, I only need to insert an inch, two at most, depending on the position of your uterus." I nodded, hoping it was the truth. "So no bleeding or cramping since the accident?" I shook my head.

"I had a little pain, but I think it was my seat belt bruising. I was nauseous and threw up once." I said.

"These are all great signs." he checked off within my file.

As Doctor Nowell was about to push the wand inside, there was a commotion outside my room.

" _I'_ _m sorry Sir, but you can not enter the patient_ _'_ _s room, if you_ _'_ _re not family._ " A voice called out.

" _But that_ _'_ _s my girlfriend in there_ ," a deep voice bellowed.

"Christian?" My face wrinkled and I lowered my legs, pulling the sheet up tight around my chest.

" _Ana?_ " Christian yelled.

" _Christian can you settle down, you are disturbing the whole hospital_."

"Grace?" I swear I heard her.

"Do you want to let the poor soul in, or do you want him to bellow down the corridors longer?" Doctor Nowell asked.

I nodded, realizing this was it. This was real and Christian was real.

" _Sir, sir, sir, you can not bring a dog in here._ " a nurse called from my door.

"I don't—" Christian hissed at the poor woman. "Ana, oh fuck… I didn't know if you… I —" I held out my arms, he dropped a bag to the floor and engulfed my sore body. " _Ana_ " he mumbled into my chest, and I couldn't help but breathe in his scent. "GT, go to Grace," he instructed. She barked, waiting for my reply.

"I'm fine girl." smiling at the beautiful dog, shooeing her on, "Hang on, _Grace_?" I asked Christian. I did hear that name correctly?

He nodded, and cupped my face. We stared into each others' eyes, and I was happy to see those stormy greys again. My lips parted and we kissed. Pulling back to catch our breath our foreheads touching.

"I've missed you," I whispered.

"I thought I lost you forever." He pushed his lips to mine again.

"Me too." I whispered back on his lips.

"Hmm, now since you're both reacquainted, it's imperative I complete this scan." Doctor Nowell announced.

"Scan?" Christian said.

"Yeah please don't panic. I had some bruising on my ribs and stomach, they are checking to see if there is no internal damage." I nodded to the doctor.

"Ok, back in position Ana, and I need you to relax."

" _Woaaah_! Hold it right there, you are not going to defile my girl with _that!_ " he pointed to the wand.

"It's for a transvaginal scan, we can check that everything is in working order, her kidneys, bladder, and uterus."

"There's something wrong with your uterus?"

"Possibly." the doctor gave a vague answer.

"Oh Ana," he rubbed my cheeks and I craved his touch.

I winced as he inserted the wand. After a moment the pain eased and he began his measurements of my kidneys and bladder.

Seeing this man, with his arms wrapped around me, was the best Christmas present anyone could ask for.

"Christian,"

"Mmmm" he sounds as his eyes are studying the small screen.

"Do you ever want kids?" I bit the inside of cheek hoping he says the right answer.

"Of course, and only with you." he turned to kiss my lips.

"Well that's a good thing you love birds," the doctor said, "because see that right there," the doctor pointed to the blip on the screen. "That's your little bundle of light right there… by the looks of it 5 weeks and 4 days."

"We're having a baby…" Christian said.

I couldn't say a word and only cry tears of joy.

"Ok I'll leave you too for a moment, as I print a few images." Doctor Nowell informed us.

I let out a breath of relief and his hands went straight to my belly. Christians lips claimed my own. Hot, hard and slow, everything I've missed. Not his beard of course, but we can discuss the finer details later. His kiss enters the light of my soul as the beeps of my monitors drift away and only the sound of our hearts are heard.

I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. Right here with him. Nothing matters except for that, because deep down we are both on a journey and this is just the beginning.

"I have a gift for you," He pulled back, furrowing through the Holiday themed bag.

In opening a small box he placed something in his hand. My hands shook not knowing what to think, he slowly opened my palm, tracing the lines, putting a cold object in my hand and carefully closed it shut.

"Here you are, my snowflake. You are the essence of my light. Merry Christmas."

I opened my palm to see, a diamond snowflake pendant.

 **-THE END-**


End file.
